Qass 
Book 



THE 



PHILOSOPHY 

OF THE 

MORAL FEELINGS, 

BY 

JOHN ABERCROMBIE, M. D. F. R. S. E. 
AN INTRODUCTORY CHAPTER. 

WITH 

ADDITIONS AND EXPLANATIONS, 

TO ADAPT THE WORK TO THE USE OF SCHOOLS AND ACADEMIES 
AND ALSO ANALYTICAL QUESTIONS FOR THE 
EXAMINATION OF CLASSES, 

BY JACOB ABBOTT. 
REVISED EDITION. 

NEW YORK; 
ROBERT B. C OLLI]S' S, 

m.-254: PEARL-STREET. 
1S52. 



Entered according to Act of Congiess, in the year 1833, 
By JACOB ABBOTT, 
In the Clerk's Office of the District Court of Massachusetts. 



uUL i 1933 



PREFACE 



BY THE A:\IER1CAN EDITOR. 



When the editor of this work prepared Dr. Aber- 
crombie's treatise on the Intellectual Powers, for the 
use of schools, it was his intention to have also pre- 
pared the present work in the same way, that the 
two might furnish teachers with a complete system of 
metaphysical philosophy. This plan, it was thought, 
would be conducive to the public benefit, as no scliool 
edition of either of these works had then been pub- 
lished. Peculiar circumstances and the pressure of 
other duties have, however, caused a delay in the pre- 
paration of the second volume; but in the mean time 
the editor has been gratified at receiving assurances 
from Dr. Abercrombie of his approbation of the plan, 
and of the course pursued in the preparation of the 
3ther work, and this one is prepared ixom a copy of the 
latest London edition, sent oat by the author expressly 
for the purpose. 

As this Avork is intended to be the counterpart to the 
other, — being prepared on the same plan, and to be 
used in the same way, — the editor has only to repeat 
here what was stated in respect to that. The original 
treatise of the author is published eutire, without alter- 
ations or omissions ; the author's language being held 
sacred. The additions which have been made are in- 
tended, not to supply any supposed deficiencies in the 



iv 



PREFACE. 



original, but simply to adapt it to a purpose for ^vhich 
the book is in the main admirably suited ; they are 
intended, as nearly as was possible, to be such addi- 
tional explanations as the editor conceived that the 
author Avould have himself made, if he had had in 
view, while preparing the book, the purpose to which 
it is now applied. 

The practice of studying such a work as this by 
formal questions, the answers to which pupils commit 
to memory, cannot be too severely censured. There 
seems, however, to be something necessary as a guide 
to the contents of the page, both for the pupil in re- 
viewing the lesson, and for the teacher at the recitation. 
That minute and familiar acquaintance, not only with 
the doctrines taught in the lesson, but with the particu- 
lar contents of every page and paragraph, so essential 
in enabling the teacher to ask his questions with fluency, 
very few teachers have the time to secure. The editor 
has accordingly added an analysis of the page in the 
margin. This analysis is given, sometimes in questions, 
and sometimes in topics or titles, which can easily be 
put by the teacher into the form of questions if he 
pleases ; or v/hat will perhaps be better, they can, at the 
recitation, be given to the pupil as topics, on which he 
is to state in substance the sentiments of the author. 



PREFACE BY THE AUTHOR. 



Ix a former work, the author endeavored to de- 
hneate, m a simple and popular form, the leading 
facts relating to the Intellectual Powers, and to 
trace the principles which ought to guide us in the 
Investigation of Truth. The volume, which he 
now offers to the pubhc attention, is intended as a 
sequel to these Inquiries ; and his object in it is to 
investigate, in the same unpretending manner, the 
Moral Feelings of the Human jMind, and the prin- 
ciples which ought to regulate our volitions and 
our conduct as-moral and responsible beings. The 
two branches of investigation are, in many respects, 
closely connected ; and, on this account, it maay 
often happen, that, in the present work, principles 
are assumed as admitted or proved, which, in the 
former, were stated at length, with the evidence by 
which they are supported. 

He had two objects chiefly in view when he 
ventured upon this investigation. The one was to 
divest his inquiry of all unprofitable speculation, 
and to show that the philosophy of the moral feel- 
ings bears directly upon a practical purpose of the 
highest moment, — the mental and moral culture of 
every rational being. The other vras to show the 
close and important relation which exists between 



vi 



PREFACE. 



this science and the doctrines of revealed religion, 
and the powerful evidence whicB is derived, for 
the truth of both, from the manner in which they 
confirm and illustrate each other. These two 
sources of knowledge cannot be separated, in the 
estimation of any one who feels the deep interest 
of the inquiry, and seriously prosecutes the hupor- 
tant question — what is truth ? If we attempt to 
erect the philosophy of morals into an independent 
science, we shall soon find that its highest induc- 
tions only lead us to a point beyond which we are 
condemned to wander in doubt and in darkness. 
But, on the other hand, by depreciating philosophy, 
or the light which is derived from the moral im- 
pressions of the mind, we deprive ourselves of a 
most important source of evidence in support of 
revelation. For it is from these impressions, view- 
ed in connection with the actual state of man, that 
we learn the necessity, and the moral probability, 
of a revelation ; and it is by principles existing in 
the mind that we are enabled to feel the power of 
that varied and incontrovertible evidence, by which 
revelation comes to the candid inquirer with all the 
authority of truth. 

Edinburgh, May, 1835. 



« 



CONTENTS 



INTRODUCTION BY THE AMERICAN EDITOR. 



PRELIMINARY OBSERVATIONS. 



SECTION I. 

NATURE AND IMPORTANCE OF THE SCIENXE OF THE MORAL FEEL- 
INGS. 

Division of the Mental Powers into Intellectual and Moral . 27 
Harmony which ought to exist between these classes . 23 
Causes hy which this harmony is interrupted, and means of 

counteracting them 29 

Interest of the Science of the Moral Feelings ... 30 
Peculiar sources of Knowledge bearing upon it, from the 

light of Conscience, and of Divine Revelation . . 32 



SECTIOiS^ II. 

FIRST TRUTHS IN THE SCIENCE OF THE MORAL FEELINGS. 

Analogy between First Truths, or Intuitive Principles ot 

Belief, in Intellectual, and in Moral Science . . 37 
Classification of First Truths in Moral Science, as impres- 
sions arising out of each other, by an obvious chain of re- 
lations 40 

1. Perception of the nature and quality of actions, as 
just or unjust, right or wrong ; and a conviction of 
duties which a man owes to other men. 



viii 



CONTENTS. 



2. Conviction of the existence and attributes of a 41 

Great First Cause, and Moral Governor. 

3. Conviction of Moral Responsibility. 41 

4. Impression of Future Existence. 41 
Importance of these convictions, as intuitive articles o^ belief 42 



THE PHILOSOPHY OF THE MORAL FEELINGS. 

Analysis of Man as a Moral Bemg .... 49 

I. The Desires, The Affections, and Self-love. 54 

II. The Will. 54 

III. The Moral Principle, or Conscience. 55 

IV. The Moral Relation of Man towards the 55 
Deity. 



PART I. 
the desires, the affections, and self-love. 

SECTION I. 



the desires .... 57 

1. Desire of the Animal Propensities . . . .58 

2. Desire of Wealth — Avarice . . . . 59 

3. Desire of Power — Ambition ..... 59 

4. Desire of Superiority — Emulation ... 60 

5. Desire of Society 61 

G. Desire of Esteem or Approbation ... 62 

7, Desire of Knowledge 65 

8. Desire of Moral Improvement .... 65 
— Desire of Action 67 

Importance of a due Regulation of the Desires . 68 

SECTIOIS' II. 

the affections ... 70 

I. Justice 73 

1. Justice to the Interests of others — Integrity . 75 

2 Justice to the Freedom of Action of others . . 75 



CONTENTS. 



IX 



3. Justice to the Reputation of others ... 76 

4. Justice in estimating the Conduct and Character of 

others 77 

5. Justice to the Opinions of others — Candor . . 78 

6. Justice to the FeeUngs of others .... 79 

7. Justice to the Moral Condition of others . . 79 

II. COMP/ISSION AND BeXEVOLENCE 81 



1. Benevolence towards the Distresses of others . 83 

2. Benevolence towards the Reputation of others . 84 

3. Benevolence towards the Character and Conduct of 

others, including Forgiveness of Injuries . . 84 

4. Benevolence towards the Feelings oi others . . 85 

5. Benevolence towards improving the Moral Condition 

ofotuers ....... 86 

III. Veracity 87 

1. The Love of Truth, in the Reception of it . . 83 

2. Veracity in delivering statements, including Sincerity 90 

3. Truth of Purpose, or Correct Fulfilment of Promises 93 



IV. Friendship, Love and Gratitude .... 03 

V. Patriotism . 05 

VI. The Doimestic Affections 96 

VII. The Defensive Affections, Anger, Jealousy, Re- 

sentment 93 



Important Influence produced upon the Exercise of the Affec- 
tions, 

By Attention 100 

By Habit . ^ .104 

Feeling of Moral Approbation attached to the Exercise of the 

Affections 107 

Happinesb arismg from a due Exercise of the Alfections ; — 
Influence of Temper . . . . . Ill 



SECTIOJ^ III. 

SELF-LOVE. 



Sense in which the term is employed .... 115 

Tendency of a True and Rational Self-love . . 115 

Morbid Exercise of it, — Selfishness .... 120 

Disinteiested Conduct and Self-denial . . 120 



CONTENTS. 



PART II. 



OF THE WILL. 



Bimple Yolition, — its Origin from one of the Desires or Af- 
fections 122 

Operation of Moral Causes on the Will .... 123 

Nature of these Causes and Source of the Diversity of their 
Operation in Different Individuals .... 125 

Circumstances required for the Uniformity of their Opera- 
tion: 

1. Knowledge . 128 

Truths of Natural and Revealed Religion. 

2. Attention ^ . . 132 

Its influence on Moral Decisions. 

3. Moral Habits .136 

Origin and Progress of Derangement of Moral 
Harmony. 

Influence of Habits upon Character . . 139 
Means of Correcting Injurious Moral Habits . 140 
Practical Conclusions from these Principles. Important In- 
fluence of Moral Habits 141 

Necessity and Probability of Divine Aid in Correcting Moral 

Derangement 145 

Influence of the Mental Operation called Faith . • . 147 



PART III. 

OF THE MOEAL PRINCIPLE, OR CONSCIENCE. 

Proofs of the Existence of Conscience as a Distinct Principle 

of the Mind 149 

Nature of its Operation as the Regulating Principle . . 151 

Analogy between it and Reason 152 

Its Influence m conveying an Impression of the Moral Attri- 
butes of the Deity 156 

Knowledge derived from this Source . . , . 156 
Comparison of the Divine Attributes with the Actual State 

of Man . ^ 159 

Difficulties arising from this Comparison removed only by 

the Christian Revelation 160 

Mental process by which the Regulating Power of Conscience 
is Impaired or Lost 162 



CONTENTS. 



Xi 



•nfluence of this Condition upon the Judgment in regard to 

Moral Truth . . . . . . . . 165 

Influence of Attention in Moral Decisions .... 168 
Man's Responsibility for his Belief ... 170 
Important relation between Moral Emotions and vo- 
luntary Intellectual Processes .... 171 

appendix to part iii. 

§ 1. — Of the Origin and Immutability of Moral Dis- 
tinctions AND Theories of Morals .... 176 

Origin of our Idea of Virtue and Vice . . . 178 

System of Mnndeville 180 

of Clarke and Wollaston .... 181 

System of Utility 182 

Selfish System 183 

System of Paley 185 

Defect of these Systems in not acknowledging the 

Supreme Authority of Conscience . . . 188 
Objections to the belief of a uniformity of Moral Feel- 
ing which have been founded on the practices of 

barbarous nations ...... 196 

System of Dr. Smith, or Theory of Sympathy . 198 

Province of Reason in Moral Decisions . * . 201 
Remarks on the Observations of some late writers 

respecting the Corruption of Conscience . . 204 

2. — Of the Harmony of the Moral Feelings . . 206 

Consistency of Character arising from this Harmony, 

— and Defects of Character to w^hich it is opposed 210 



PART IV. 

of the moral relation of man towards the deity . 215 

View of the Divine Character in reference to this Relation 216 
Regulation of Moral Feelings which ought to arise out of 
it;~ . . . . 217 

1. Habitual effort to cultivate a Sense of the Divine 

Presence, and to regulate the Moral Feelings and 
Character by it 217 

2. Submission to the Appointments of Providence . 222 



Xll 



CONTENTS. 



3. Sense of Moral Imperfection and Guilt, and Suppli- 

cation for Mercy, with Reliance on Divine Aid 223 

4. Sense of Gratitude, Affection, and Love . . 224 
Conduct and Character arising out of this Condition of the 

Moral Feelings - . 225 

Means of Cultivating it 226 

Nature and Operation of Faith . . • Ji- • ^31 
Province of Faith in the Philosophy of the Moral Feelings . 234 
Truths which are its more Immediate Object . 238 
Its influence on the Moral Condition . . . 240 
Province of Faith in the Scheme of Christianity . . 245 
Harmony of Christian Truth with the Philosophy of the 
Moral Feelings . . . 243 



INTRODUCTION. 



METHOD OF USING THE BOOK. 



TO BE CAKEFULLY STUDIED BY THE PUPIL AS THE FIRST LESSON. 



There are three different and entirely distinct objects 
in view in the study of Moral Philosophy, and the 
pupil ought to understand clearly what these objects 
are at the outset, in order to derive the full advantage 
of the study. 

I. Disciphne of mind. By discipline vfe mean prac- 
tice and improvement. Now it is of great advantage 
to the powers of the mind to be practised a little in 
early life, in thinking and reasoning on metaphysical 
subjects. 

But what is the precise meaning of the word meta- 
physical?'^ the pupil will perhaps ask. In explanation 
we say that all sensible objects,— that is, all that can 
be seen or felt, or perceived by any of the senses. — 
and in fact all others that are of the same nature with 
them, though they may be so minute or so subtle as to 
elude the senses, — are called physical. Thus earth, 
air, animals, light, the electric fluid, come within tlie 



How many objects in pursuing this study ? The first ? Discipline, what ? What 
included in the term physical 7 Examples. 



14 



INTRODUCTION. 



term physical. The sciences which relate to them are 
called the physical sciences. 

But there are certain other realities with which we 
Ttre conversant, that lie beyond these, as it -were, and 
are of a different natnre altogether : — the powers and 
facuhies of the mind, various moral truths, the princi- 
ples of duty, and other similar topics. They are to- 
tally different in their very nature from the others. 
They can neither be seen nor heard nor handled 
They are in no place, and have no relation to time 
You cannot illustrate them by models or by diagrams. 
In fact the whole field in Avhich they lie is entirely 
beyond^ as it were, the material creation. Hence they 
are called meta-physical ; the affix meta having the 
force of beyond. 

Now it is highly conducive to the health and vigor 
of the mental powers, to have them occupied in some 
degree in youth upon these metaphysical inquiries. 
For in entering upon this field, the mind is compelled 
to draw itself off from the external and visible 
creation, and turn back upon itself; and the power of 
attention and abstraction, vv^hich are thus cherished, 
are of great value in all the pursuits and occupations 
of life. Then too the various moral and metaphysical 
distinctions which the mind must learn to discern, 
exercise and strengthen its powers of discrimination, 
more than almost any other discipline. This exercise 
is therefore one of the great objects which should be 
aimed at in such a study. 

II. A second object which is to be gained by the 
study of Moral Philosophy, is the formation of correct 
opinions on the subject of human duty. It is more 
important that our opinions in respect to right and 
Yv^rong should be correct, than on any other subject 
whatever. If our minds are thoroughly imbued v^dth 



Can ail physical objects be perceived by the senses ? Examples of objects not phy- 
sical. How (iilferent? Meaning of 77i€.'a. Meaning of metaphysicai. Efiect of meta- 
physical studies!. Discrimination. Second object ? Comparative importance of sound 
opu\iOi s in morals. 



INTRODUCTION. 



15 



sound general principles, we shall be continually and 
almost instinctively applying them to the various 
situations and circumstances in which we are placed. 
Our conduct will thus be steady — the result of fixed 
principle, instead of springing from the mere impulse 
of feeling. The pupil ought to study such a work as 
this with this object very steadily and very distinctly 
in view. Your opinions in respect to what is right and 
v/rong in human conduct are now to be moulded and 
formed. Your principles are to be fixed. The frame 
V7ork of a moral system is to be constructed, around 
which your future character is to be in a great measure 
formed, and by which your principles and opinions on 
almost all other subjects are to be modified. No argu- 
ment is necessary to show that, in this view of the 
case, the study of Moral Philosophy is one of the most 
miportant studies of life. 

ill. The third great object to be regarded in the 
pursuit of this study is its direct practical bearing upon 
the heart and conduct of the pupil. How far it may 
prove conducive to such an end, will depend very 
much, — altogether, in fact,— upon the spirit and temper 
with which it is commenced. Do I really wish,'' 
should the pupil ask himself, — ^' Do I reahy wish to 
learn my duty for the purpose of doing it ? Do I really, 
honestly wish, while 1 live in this world, to conform 
my conduct more and more to the principles of recti- 
tude? to make it my rule to do always what is right, 
because it is right] and to live with the constant object 
in mind of endeavoring to please my great Creator and 
Benefactor, by obeying his commands and complying 
with his will?" If you commence such a study as 
this with these desires, and go on through chapter after 
chapter of the work, looking constantly for light to 
shine upon your path of daily duty, — the study will be 
found to have a very powerful and permanent influence 
in the formation of your character. 



Effect upon the conduct, what. Third object ? Its accomplishment dopeniLj upon 
what ? Questions ? 



16 



INTRODUCTION. 



These three objects then should be kept by the pupil 
constantly in mind, as he proceeds with this study, — 
intellectual discipline, the formation of correct opinions, 
and practical improvement. If these three objects are 
thus aimed at and secured, the class will have found 
the time devoted to this study hours most profitably 
spent. 

The directions to be given in respect to the mode of 
studying the book, are substantially the same with 
those contained in the introduction to the other work. 
We repeat them here, for even if the pupil has already 
used that text-book, his mind should be refreshed with 
these directions, on commencing this, and they will be 
still more necessary to classes who may use this first. 

And in the first place I must remark that Moral 
Philosophy, like Intellectual Philosophy, is not and can- 
not be an ea^y study. Its very difiiculty is the source 
of one of the great benefits, the mental discipline, which 
is to be obtained from it. These metaphysical studies 
are intended as a sort of intellectual gymnastics, in 
which the tasks ought indeed to be brought fairly 
within the powers of the pupil, but they ought nearly 
to equal those powers, so as to call them into active 
and vigorous exercise, or the end will be lost, [f, 
therefore, the writer of a treatise on such a subject 
comes down so completely to the level of the young as 
to make the study mere light reading, he fails entirely 
of accomplishing what ought to be his highest aim. 
He destroys the difiiculty and the advantage together. 
It is indeed true, that a very useful book may be writ- 
ten for children, with the design of merely giving them 
information on some subjects connected with the phi- 
losophy of mind and of morals. It might be entertain- 
ing, and to a considerable degree instructive, but it 
would answer few of the important purposes which 
ought to be in vicAv, m the introduction of such a study 



Recapitulation of the objects. Is this study intended to be an easy one ? Why not ? 
The study difilcult. Why ? Gymnastics. Difference between reading and study on 
tliis subject. 



INTRODUCTION. 



17 



into literary institutions. It would not develop the 
reasoning or thinking powers. It would awaken no 
new intellectual effort. 

Such being the nature of these studies, it is pkain 
that it ought not to be commenced by any pupil with- 
out a proper understanding of the difficulties, or the 
qualifications necessary to surmount them. These 
qualifications are the following : 

I. Ability to understand the language of the work. 
It is not a child's book. It was written by a man, and 
was intended to be read by men. The editor has made 
no effort to alter it in this respect, so that the book 
stands on a level, as to its style and language, with the 
great mass of books intended to influence and interest 
the mature. It ought to be so; for to be able to under- 
stand such writing is necessary for all, and if the pupil 
is far enough advanced in his education to study meta- 
physics, it is quite time for him to be habituated to it. 
Let no pupil therefore, after he is fairly engaged in the 
study, complain that he cannot understand the lessons. 
This is a point which ought to be settled before he begins. 

The pupil may read as attentively as he pleases. 
He may make use of a dictionary, or any other similar 
help. He may make occasional inquiries of a friend ; 
but if he cannot, with such assistance, really under- 
stand the train of thought presented in any lesson, 
and give a tolerable account of it to his teacher, he had 
better for the present postpone the study of Moral Phi- 
losophy : his mind is too immature. 

II. Mental cultivation enough to he interested in the 
subject of the loork. The subjects discussed, and tlie 
views presented, are of such a nature, thatthe undisci- 
plined can take no interest in them. They cannot ap- 
preciate them. Unless the mind has made considerable 
progress in its development, and in its attainments in 
other branches, and unless it has, in some degree, 



Qualifications. First qualification, what ? Langiuija of ihe book. Secoi'd qual? 
fication. 



18 



INTRODUCTION. 



formed habits of patient attention, it must fail in the 
attempt to appreciate such a study as this. The pupil, 
in such a case, after going a little way, will say that the 
book is dull and dry. He will attribute to the study, 
or to the mode in which it is treated, a failure, v/hich 
really results from his own deficiency. He ought to 
reflect when tempted to make this charge, that it cannot 
be possible that the study is, in itself, uninteresting. 
This treatise of Dr. Abercrombie's has been bought 
and read with avidity by thousands in Great Britain 
and America, who could have been led to it by no mo- 
tive whatever, but the interest which the subject in- 
spires. They, therefore, who are not interested in it, 
after making faithful efforts, fail of being so because 
their minds are not yet prepared to appreciate what 
they read ; and by complaining of the dryness or dull- 
ness of the book, they are really exposing their own 
incompetency to enter into the spirit of it. The teach- 
er ought to take care that his pupils do not commence 
the work until they are capable of feeling the interest 
which it is calculated to awaken. 

HI. A IV illin guess to give to the subject the severe^ 
patient and jper severing study ivhich it demands. Some 
will wish to take up such a branch merely for the sake 
of having something new. Others because their vanity 
is flattered by the idea that they are studying Philoso- 
phy. Others still, because they wish for the honor of 
being in a class with certain individuals known as 
good scholars. Beginning with such ideas and mo- 
tives will only lead to disappointment and failure. 
The pupil ought to approacli this subject with a dis- 
tinct understanding that though it is full of interest, it 
will be full of difficulty; that it will try, to the utmost, 
his powers ; and that the pleasure which he is to seek 
in the pursuit of it is the enjoyment of high intellectual 
effort, — the interest of encountering and overcoming 



Consequences of commencing the study without it. The study really interestmg: 
how proved to be so. Complaints of its dullness sliow what? Third qualification 
Wring motives for commencing the study. Proper views of it. 



INTRODUCTION. 



19 



difficulties, and opening to himself a new field of 
knowledge, and a new scope for the exercise of his 
powers. 

I come now to describe a method of studying and 
reciting the lessons in such a work as this. I say « 
method, because it is only meant to be proposed for 
adoption in cases w here another or a better one is not 
at hand. Experienced and skilful teachers have their 
own modes of conducting such studies, and the recita- 
tions connected with them, with which there ought to be 
no interference. The plan about to be proposed may, 
ho^vever, be of use in assisting teachers who are. for 
the first time, introducing this study to their schools ; 
and the principles on which it is based are well worthy 
the attention of every pupil who is about to com.mence 
this study. 

1. When you sit down to the study of a lesson in 
this work, be careful to be free from interruption, and 
to have such a period of time before you, to be occu- 
pied in the work, as will give you the opportunity 
really to enter into it. Then banish other thoughts 
entirely from the mind, and remove yourself as far as 
possible from other objects of interest or sources of in- 
terruption. The habit into which many yonns: persons 
allow themselves to fall, of studying lessons in fragments 
of time, having the book, perhaps, for some time before 
them, but allowing their attention to be conunually 
diverted from their pursuit, will ou]y lead to superficial 
and utterly useless attainments. It is destructive all 
those habits of mind necessary for success in any im- 
portant intellectual pursuit. It is especially injurious 
in such a study as this. Metaphysical Philosophy is 
emphatically the science of thoiight. and nothing effec- 
tual can be done in it without patient, continued, and 
solitary study. 



Method of studying, why proposed. First direction. A common but faulty mode 
'jf studying described7 Its eflfects, what? 



20 



INTRODUCTION. 



2. Ascertain before you commence any lesson what 
place it occupies in the general plan of the book, with 
which, at the outset, you should become very tho- 
roughly acquainted. Nothing promotes so much the 
formation of logical and systematic habits of mind, and 
nothing so effectually assists the memory, in regard to 
what any particular work contains, as the keeping 
constantly in view the general 'plan of the book ; look- 
ing at it as a whole^ and understanding distinctly, not 
merely each truth, or system of truths, brought to view, 
but the place which it occupies in the general design. 

3. This preparation being made, you are prepared to 
read the lesson, which should be done, the first time, 
with great attention and care, and with especial effort 
to understand the connection between each sentence 
and })aragraph, and those which precede and follow it. 
It should always be borne in mind, that treatises on 
such subjects 9,s these present trains of thought and 
reasoning, not mere detached ideas and sentences. 
Every remark, therefore, should be examined, not by 
itself, but in its connections. This should be especially 
observed in regard to the anecdotes and illustrations 
with which the work abounds. The bearing of each 
one on the subject should be very carefully studied. 
They are all, intended to prove some point, or to illus- 
trate some position. After reading such narratives, 
then, you should not only take care to understand it as 
a story, but should ask yourselves such questions as 
these: '^Why is this story introduced here? What 
does the author mean to prove by it 7 What principle 
does it illustrate? 

The pupil, too, should avail himself of collateral helps 
in understanding the lesson. Every geographical, or 
historical, or personal allusion should be examined with 
the help of the proper books. If a distinguished indi- 
vidual is mentioned, find the account of his life in a 



Second direction. EtTects of this practice. Third direction. Connections of tne 
passage. Anecdotes and illustrations, how to be studied ? Collateral nelps. 



INTRODUCTION. 



21 



biographical dictionary. If a place is riamed, seek it 
01) the map. There is one other direction wliich I am 
sorry to say it is absolutely necessary to mention. 
Look out all the words, whose meaning you do not 
dictinctly and fully understand, in a dictionary. 
Strange as it may seem, in nine cases out of ten, a 
pupil in school will find in his lesson a sentence con- 
taining words he does not understand, and, after per- 
plexing himself some minutes with it in vain, he will 
go to his recitation in ignorance of its meaning, as if he 
never had heard of such a contrivance as a dictionary. 
Now the habit of seeking from other books explana- 
tions and assistance in regard to your studies is of in- 
calculable value. It will cause you some additional 
trouble, but it will multiply, many fold, your interest 
and success. 

4. After having thus read, with minute and critical 
attention, the portion assigned, the pupil should next 
take a cursory review of it, by glancing the eye over 
the paragraphs, noticing the heads, and the questions 
or topics in the margin, for the purpose of taking in, as 
it were, a view of the passage as a whole. The order 
of discussion which the author adopts, and the regular 
manner in which the several steps of an argument, or 
the several applications of a principle, succeed one 
another, should be carefully observed. There are the 
same reasons for doing this, in regard to any particular 
chapter, as in regard to the whole work. The connec- 
tion, too, between the passage which constitutes the 
lesson, and the rest of the book, i. e. the place which 
it oc( upies in the plan of the author, should be brought 
to mind again. You thus classify and arrange, in your 
own mind, what is learned, and not only fix it more 
firmly, but you are acquiring logical habits of mind, 
which will be of lasting and incalculable value. 

5. You will thus have acquired a thorough know- 



Examples of this. Use of dictionary. Fourth direction. Review of the lessoD 
Connections of the lesson. 



22 



INTRODUCTION. 



ledge of the lesson, but this is by no means all that is 
necessary. You must learn to recite it ; that is, you 
must learn to express, in your own language, the ideas 
you have thus acquired. This is a distinct and an 
important point. Nothing is more common than for 
pupils to say, when they attempt to recite in such a 
study as this, I know the answer, but I cannot ex- 
press it;" as if the power to express was not as im- 
portant as the abiUty to understand. 

The pupil then must make special preparation for 
this part of his duty, that is, for expressing in his own 
language the thoughts and principles of the author. 
The best way, perhaps, of making this preparation is 
to go over the lesson, looking only at the topics in the 
margin, and repeating aloud, or in a whisper, or in 
thought, the substance of what is stated under each. 
Be careful that what you say makes complete and 
perfect sense of itself, that it is expressed in clear and 
natural language, and that it is a full exposition of the 
author's meaning. 

Such a study as this ought not to be recited by mere 
question and answer. Whenever the subject will allow, 
it is better for the teacher to give out a subject or topic, 
on which the pupil may express the sentiments of the 
writer. This is altogether the pleasantest, as well as 
the most useful mode of recitation. Those unaccus- 
tomed to it will, of course, find a little difficulty at 
first. But the very effort to surmount this difficulty 
will be as useful in developing and strengthening the 
intellectual powers, as any other effort which the study 
requires. 

You should go over the lesson, then, for the purpose 
of reciting it to j^ourself, as it were, by looking at the 
marginal titles, one by one, and distinctly stating to 
yourself the substance of the author's views upon each. 
If this preparation is made, and if the recitation is 



Fifth direction. Learning to recite. V\"hat implied in this. Common excuse 
Preparation, how to be made. Blode of questioning. Advantage of this mode. 



INTRODUCTION. 



23 



condacted on the same principles, the pupils will soon 
find themselves making very perceptible and rapid 
progress in that most important art, viz. expressing 
their sentiments with fluency, distinctness, and promp- 
titude. 

It will be evident, from what is said above, that the 
pupil ought not to commit to memory the language of 
the author. This practice may indeed be useful, in 
strengthening the memory, and in some other ways, 
but very far higher objects ought to be in view, in 
studying such a work as this, and they will be far better 
attained by the pupils depending entirely on them- 
selves for the language in which they express their 
ideas. 

6. After the class has, in this thorough manner, gone 
through with one of the divisions of the book, they 
should pause, to review it ; and the best, as well as the 
pleasantest mode of conducting a review, is to assign 
to the class some written exercises on the portion to be 
thus re-examined. These exercises may be of various 
kinds; I shall, however, mention only two. 

(1.) An abstract of the chapter to be reviewed; that 
is, a brief exposition, in writing, of the plan of the 
chapter, with the substance of the writer's views on 
each head. Such an abstract, though it will require 
some labor at first, will be, with a little practice, a 
pleasant exercise ; and perhaps there is nothing which 
so effectually assists in digesting the knowledge which 
the pupil has obtained, and in fixing it indehbly upon 
the mind, and nothing is so conducive to accurate 
logical habits of thought, as this writing an analysis 
of a scientific work. It may be very brief, and ellipti- 
cal in its style; its logical accuracy is the main point 
to be secured. By devoting a single exercise at the 
end of each section to such an exercise, a class can go 
on»regularly through the book, and, with very little 
delay, make an abstract of the whole. 



Committing to memory. Sixth direction. Review, how to be conducted. First 
method, what? Itg uses. Style and manner. 



24 



INTRODUCTION. 



(2.) Writing additional illustrations of the principles 
brought to view, — ilhistrations furnished either by the 
experience or observation of the pupil, or by what he 
has read in books. There are multitudes of subjects dis- 
cussed in the work, suitable for this purpose. Wherever 
anecdotes are told, illustrating the laws of the human 
mind, the pupil can add others ; for these laws are the 
f^ame in all minds, and are constantly in operation. 
Writing these additional illustrations, especially if they 
are derived from your own experience, will have ano- 
ther most powerful effect. They will turn your atten- 
tion within, and accustom you to watch the operations, 
and study the laws of your own minds. Many pupils 
do not seem to understand that it is the powers and 
movements of the immaterial principle within their 
own bosoms, which are the objects of investigation in 
such a science. Because illustrations are drawn from 
the histories of men with strange names, who lived in 
other countries, and a half a century ago, they seem 
insensibly to imbibe the idea, that it is the philosophy 
of these men's minds which they are studying, not 
their own. Now the fact is, that appeals are made to 
the history and experience of these individuals, simply 
because they are more accessible to the writers of books. 
A perfect system of Metaphysical Philosophy might be 
written, with all its illustrations drawn from the 
thoughts and feelings of any single pupil in the class. 
The mind is in its essential laws everywhere the 
same ; and of course you can find the evidence of the 
existence and operation of all these laws in your own 
breasts, if you Avill look there. What you cannot, by 
proper research, find confirmed by your own experi- 
ence, or your observations upon those around you, is 
not a law of mind. 

Such is substantially the course which is recom- 



Second mode. Exainplo. Advantages of it. Common misunderstanding in regar(} 
to the nature of this study. 



INTRODUCTION. 



25 



mended to those who shall commence the study of this 
work. It will be perceived that the object of it is to 
make the study of it, if possible, not what it too often 
is, the mere mechanical repetition of answers marked 
and committed to memory, but an intellectual and tho- 
rough investigation of a science. If the book is studied 
in this way, it must have a most powerful influence in 
cultivating accurate and discriminating habits, in deve- 
loping intellectual power, and in storing the mind with 
correct moral principles, and permanency elevating and 
improving the moral character. 



PRELIMINARY OBSERVATIONS. 



S E C T I O I. 

NATURE AND IMPORTAXCF OF THE SCIENCE OF THE MORAL 

FEELINGS. 

Man is to be contemplated as an intellectual, and as 
a moral being. By his intellectual powers he acquires 
the knowledge of facts, observes their connections, and 
traces the conclusions which arise out of them. These 
mental operations, however, even in a high state of 
cultivation, may be directed entirely to truths of an ex- 
trinsic kind, — that is, to such as do not exert any influ- 
ence either on the moral condition of the individual, or 
- on his relations to other sentient beings. They may 
exist in an eminent degree in the man who lives only 
for himself, and feels little beyond the personal wants 
or the selfish enjoyments of the hour that is passing 
over him. 

But, when we contemplate man as a moral being, 
new relations open on our view, — and these are of 

In what twofold point of view is man to be considered? Province of the 
intellect ? Meaning of exh'insic 7 Moral relations, — their nature and 
origin ? 



28 



PRELIMINARY OBSERVATIONS. 



[sec. L 



mightier import. We find him occupying a place in a 
great system of moral government, in which he has an 
important station to fill and high duties to perform. 
We find him placed in certain relations to a great mo- 
ral Governor, who presides over this system of things, 
and to a future state o^being for which the present 
scene is intended to prepare him. We find him pos- 
sessed of powers which qualify him to feel these rela- 
tions, and of principles calculated to guide him through 
the solemn responsibilities which attend his state of 
moral discipline. 

These two parts of his mental constitution we perceive 
to be remarkably distinct froqi each other. The former 
may be in vigorous exercise in him who has little feel- 
ing of his moral condition ; and the latter may be in 
a high state of culture in the man who, in point of in- 
tellectual acquirement, knows little beyond the truths 
which it most concerns him to know, — those great but 
simple principles which guide his conduct as a respon- 
sible being. 

In a well-regulated mind, there is an intimate har- 
mony and co-operation between these two departments 
of the mental economy. Knowledge, received through 
the powers of sensation and simple intellect, whether 
relating to external things, or to mental phenomena, 
and conclusions derived from these through the powers 
of reasoning, ought all to contribute to that which is 
the highest state of man, — his purity as a rnoral being. 



Two classes of them. What powers related to them? Are the two parts 
of the mental constitution distinct or blended ? In what respects ? Are they 
entirely distinct ? Harmony and co-operation between them. What should 
be the effect of knowledge ? The sources of knowledge alluded to. 



SEC. I.] PHILOSOPHY OF THE MORAL FEELINGS. 



29 



They ought all to lend their aid towards the cultivation 
of those principles of his nature which bind him to his 
fellow-men; and those higher principles still, which 
raise his feeble powers to the Eternal Incomprehensible 
One. the first great cause of all things, and the mora] 
Governor of the universe. 0^ 

A slight degree of observation is sufficient to convince 
us, that such a regulated condition of the mental con- 
stitution does not exist in the generality of mankind. 
It is not my present purpose to inquire into the causes 
by which this is primarily deranged ; but it may be in- 
teresting to trace some of the circumstances which bear 
a part in producing the derangement. In our present 
state of being, we are surrounded with objects of sense ; 
and the mind is kept, in a great degree, under the in- 
fluence of external things. In this manner it often hap- 
pens, that facts and considerations elude our attention, 
and deeds escape from our memory, in a manner which 
would not occur, were the mind left at liberty to recall 
its own associations, and to feel the influence of princi- 
ples which are really part of the mental constitution. 
It is thus that, amid the bustle of life, the attention is 
apt to be engrossed by considerations of a local and an 
inferior character ; while facts and motives of the 
highest moment are overlooked, and deeds of our own, 
long gone by, escape from our remembrance. We thus 
lose a correct sense of our moral condition, and yield to 
the agency of present and external things, in a manner 
disproportioned to their real value. For our highest 

Is the mental constitution well regulated in the generality of mankind 7 
Circumstances producing derangement. Way in which the senses influ 
tnce us ? 

3# 



30 



PRELIMINARY OBSERVATIONS. 



[sec h 



concern as moral beings is with things future, aad 
things unseen; and often with circumstances in our 
own moral history, long past, and perhaps forgotten. 
Hence the benefit of retirement and calm reflection, and 
of CA'-ery thing that tends to withdraw us from the im- 
pression of sensible objects, and that leads us to feel 
the superiority of things which are not seen. Under ~ 
such influence, the mind displays an astonishing power 
of recalling the past and grasping the future, and of 
viewing objects in their true relations to itself and to 
each other. The first of these, indeed, we see exem- 
plified in many affections, in which the mind is cut off", 
in a greater or less degree, from its intercourse with the 
external world, by causes acting upon the bodily or- 
ganization. In another work I have described many 
remarkable examples of the mind, in this condition, re- 
calling its old impressions respecting things long past 
and entirely forgotten ; and the facts there stated call 
our attention in a very striking manner to its inherent 
powers and its independent existence. 

This subject is one of intense interest, and suggests 
reflections of the most important kind, respecting the 
powers and properties of the thinking principle. In 
particular, it leads us to a period which we are taught 
to anticipate even by the inductions of intellectual sci- 
ence, when, the bodily frame being dissolved, the think- 
ing and reasoning essence shall exercise its peculiar 
faculties in a higher state of being. There are facts in 
the mental phenomena which give a high degree of 

In what way does retirement and calm reflection benefit us ? Power of the 
mind in such a case. What other work referred to? Facts there stated; 
what ? Meaning of the phrase, " taught to anticipate by the inductions of 
intellectual science." What are we thus taught to anticipate ? 



SEC. 1.] PHILOSOPHY OF THE MORAL FEELINGS. 



31 



probability to the conjecture, that the whole transac- 
tions of life, with the motives and moral history of each 
individual, may then be recalled by a process of the 
mind itself, and placed, as at a single glance, distinctly 
before him. Were we to realize such a mental condi- 
tion, we should not fail to contemplate the impressions 
so recalled with feelings very different from those by 
which we are apt to be misled amid the influence of 
present and external things. The tumult of life is 
over ;— pursuits, principles, and motives, which once 
bore an aspect of importance, are viewed with feelings 
more adapted to their true value. { The moral principle 
recovers that authority which, amid the contests of 
passion, had been obscured or lost; — each act and each 
emotion is seen in its relations to the great dictates of 
truth, and each pursuit of life in its real bearing on the 
great concerns of a moral being ;— and the whole as- 
sumes a character of new and wondrous import, when 
viewed in relation to that Incomprehensible One, who 
is then disclosed in all his attributes as a moral governor. 
CTime past is contracted into a point, and that the in- 
fancy of being; time to come is seen expanding into 
eternal existence. 

Such are the views which open on him who would 
inquire into the essence by which man is distinguished 
as a rational and moral being. Compared with it, what 
are all the phenomena of nature, — what is all the his- 
tory of the world, — the rise and fall of empires, — or the 
fate of those who rule them. These derive their inte- 
rest from local and transient relations, but this is to 



Life, how regarded in future retrospection 7 ^ Importance of the moral rela 
lions of man. 



32 



PRELIMINARY OBSERVATIONS. 



[sec. I. 



exist forever. That science, therefore, must be consi- 
dered as the highest of all human pursuits, which con- 
templates man in his relation to eternal things. With 
its importance we must feel its difficulties ; and, did we 
confine the investigation to the mere principles of natu- 
ral science, we should feel these difficulties to be insur- 
mountable. But, in this great inquiry, we have two 
sources of knowledge, to which nothing analogous is 
to be found in the history of physical science, and 
which will prove infallible guides, if we resign our- 
selves to their direction with sincere desire to discover 
the truth. These are, the light of conscience, and 
the light of divine revelation. In making this state- 
ment, I am aware that 1 tread on delicate ground, and 
that some will consider an appeal to the sacred Avritings 
as a departure from the strict course of philosophical 
inquiry. This opinion, I am satisfied, is entirely at va- 
riance with truth ; and, in every moral investigation, 
if we take the inductions of sound philosophy, along 
with the dictates of conscience, and the light of reveal- 
ed truth, we shall find them to constitute one uniform 
and harmonious whole, the various parts of which tend, 
in a remarkavble manner, to establish and illustrate each 
other. If, indeed, in any investigation of moral science, 
we disregard the light which is furnished by the sacred 
writings, we resemble an astronomer who should rely 
entirely on his unaided sight, and reject those optical 
inventions which extend so remarkably the field of his 
vision, as to be to him the revelation of things not 



Rank 3f this science 7 Difficulties ? Peculiar sources of knowledge, how 
many ? What ? An appeal to the sacred writings, how regarded by some 
persons ? Neglecting the light of revelation, compared to what ? 



SEC. I.] MEANS OF CONDUCTING THE INQUIRY. 



33 



seen. Could we suppose a person thus entertaining 
doubts respecting the knowledge supplied by the tele- 
scope, yet proceeding in a candid manner to inves- 
tigate its truth, he would perceive, in the telescopic ob- 
servations themselves, principles de\"eloped which are 
calculated to remove his suspicions. For, in the limit- 
ed knowledge which is furnished by vision alone, he 
finds difficulties which he cannot explain, apparent in- 
consistencies which he cannot reconcile, and insulated 
facts which he cannot refer to any known principle. 
But, in the more extended knowledge Avhich the telescope 
yields, these difficulties disappear; facts are brought 
together which seemed unconnected or discordant ; and 
the universe appears one beautiful system of order and 
consistency. It is the same in the experience of the 
moral inquirer, when he extends his views beyond the 
inductions of reason, and corrects his conclusions by 
the testimony of God. Discordant principles are brought 
together ; doubts and difficulties disappear ; and beautV; 
order, and harmony are seen to pervade the government 
of the Deity. In this manner there also arises a species 
of evidence for the doctrines of revelation, which is en- 
tirely independent of the external proofs of its divine 
origin ; and which, to the candid mind, invests it with 
all the character of authenticity and truth. 

Prom these combined sources of knowledge, thus 
illustrating and confirming each other, we are enabled 
to attain, in moral inquiries, a degree of certainty adapt- 
ed to their high importance. "^Ye do so vrhen, with 



Effect of the use of the telescope in removing difficulties ? Effect in mora: 
science of resorting to the light of revelation? Are tliese combined sourcea 
itLiicient? 



34 



PRELIMINARY OBSERVATIONS. 



[sec. II. 



sincere desire to discover the truth, we resign ourselves 
to the guidance of the hght which is within, aided as it 
is by that hght from heaven, which shines upon the 
path of the humble inquirer. Cultivated on these prin- 
ciples, the science is fitted to engage the most powerful 
mind ; while it will impart strength to the most com- 
mon understanding. It terminates in no barren specu- 
lations, but tends directly to promote peace on earth, 
and good- will among men. It is calculated both to en- 
large the understanding, and to elevate and purify the 
feelings, and thus to cultivate the moral being for the 
life which is to come. It spreads forth to the view, be- 
coming smoother and brighter the farther it is pursued ; 
and the rays which illuminate the path converge in the 
throne of him who is eternal. 



SECTIOjN^ II. 

OF FIRST TRUTHS IN THE PHILOSOPHY OF THE MORAL 
FEELINGS. 

The knowledge which we receive through our intel- 
lectual powers is referable to two classes. These may 
be distinguished by the names of acquired knowledge^ 
and intuitive or fundamental articles of belief. 

It may be well to make to the pupil one or two general 
statements in respect to the origin of our knowledge, Avhich 

What are the two sources of knowledge alluded to ? To what minds is the 
cultivation of the science adapted ? Practical effect of the study ? 



SEC. II.] FIRST TRUTHS IN MORAL SCIENCE. 



35 



will make what follows in this chapter more clear. Human 
knowledge may then, in ihn first place, be referred to two 
great classes. 

I. That which we re^eeive by the senses, seeing, hearing, &c. 

II. That which ^^e receive by the intellectual powers, rea- 
soning, reflection, 

^ The. knowledge that grass is green, and that lead is heavy, 
and vinegar sour, comes under the former of these heads. 
Our knowledge of the properties of the triangle, and of the 
nature of the human mind, comes under the latter. This dis- 
tinction is clearly pointed out and illustrated in the author's 
Treatise on Intellectual Philosophy. It is only the second of 
the two heads which is considered in this chapter. Hence it 
commences, " The knowledge which we receive through our 
intellectual powers is rafembie/' <fec. ; so that the two classes 
spoken of in this chapter is only a s^u^tfiVi.^icti of the second 
great branch into which the sources of knowledge are (iiv7ded. 
The subdivision is, as the pupil will perceive, 

1. Knowdedge which is acquired, 

2. Knowledge which is intuitive. 

Our conviction that playing games of hazard, for money, 
is wrong, is an example of the first class ; that is, it is acquired. 
We obtain it by a long course of observation of the deleterious 
influences of such a practice, or else by carefully considering 
the nature and probable tendencies of it. 

On the other hand, our belief that maliciously giving pain 
to one who has never injured us, is WTong, is an example of 
the second class ; that is, it is intuitive. The mind sees the 
truth at once, without any train of investigation or reasoning. 

Which part of these remarks is written by the author, and which by tlie 
American editor ? First great division of the sources of knowledge ? Exam- 
ples of knowledge acquired by the senses ? By the intellectual powers 1 
Which class treated of in this chapter? Subdivision of it ? Example of 
acquired knowledge 7 Example of intuitive knowledge ? 



36 PRELIMINARY >^^SERVATIONS. [sEC II. 



It is impossible to prove it. It is 4n itself more simple tlian 
any thing by which it could b6 i^roved. 

Now in ail sciences, the first step is, to point out and define 
the intuitive truths, or first princlpres,^'as they are sometimes 
called, i. e., those which the mind -recei\^ ' at^ once, the mo- 
ment they are presented, without any train oi reasoning or 
investigation to establish them. These are made the basi:- n 
which all the other truths of the science are established. 
Thus in Geometry, for exam.ple, the first principles are always 
laid down at the outset, without proof. They are called axi- 
oms. They are such as these : Things ivhich are equal to 
the same things are equal to one another, and the lohole is 
greater than a part. The pupil vnW perceive that the truth 
of the axioms is perceived by the mind intuitively ; that is, at 
once, without any train of rea.'sbrung to establish them. In 
fact, they^- and/otheTs j^Ke them, are the clprrfents of the rea- 
sor^irg ; tryi>h Other truths are to be prov^ed- 

In the same way in all the other sciences, the first ^thing^ js 
to lay down the first truths, that is, those which are intuiiiiely 
perceived by the mind, and which are the foundation of all 
that follow. It is the object of this chapter to point out the 
nature of them, and to enumerate those which appertain to 
moral philosophy. 

Our acquired knowledge is procured by the active 
use of our mental powers, in collecting facts, tracing 
their relations, and observing the deductions which 
arise out of particular combinations of them. These 
constitute the operations v/hich I have referred to in 
another vv^ork, under the heads of processes of investi 

First step in all sciences 7 Nature of first truths ? Connection with othei 
truths ? Examples of them in Geometry ? Name given to them in Ge- 
ometry 7 Object of tliis chapter 7 Acquired knowledge, how procured 7 By 
what two processes 7 



SEC. II.] FIRST TRUTHS IN MORAL SCIENCE. 



37 



gation, and processes of reasoning. The full exercise 
of them requires a certain culture of tlie mental facul- 
ties, and consequently is confined to a coniparati^^ely 
small number of men. We perceive, however, that 
such culture is not essential to every individual, for 
many are very deficient in it who yet are considered as 
persons of sound mind, and capable of discharging their 
duties in various situations of life in a creditable and 
useful manner. 

But the knowledge which we derive from the other 
source is of immediate and essential importance to men 
of every degree ; and, without it, no individual could 
engage, with confidence, in any of the common trans- 
actions of life, or make any provision for his protection 
or comfort, or even for the continuance of his existence. 
These are the principles also treated of, in a former 
work, under the nam_e of First Truths. They are not, 
like our knowledge of the other kind, the result of any 
process either of investigation or of reasoning; and, for 
the possession of them, no man either depends upon his 
own observation, or has recourse to that other men. . 
They area part of his mental constitution, arising, with 
a feeling of ^.bsoVute certainty, in every sound mind; 
and, while they admit of no proof by processes of rea- 
soning, sophistical objections brought against them can 
be combated only by an appeal to the consciousness of 
every man, and to the absolute conviction which forces 
itself upon the whole mass of mankind. 

If the Creator has thus implanted in the mind of man 

Is the exercise of these operations universal ? Why not ? Importance of 
knowledge derived from the other source ? By what name are those intuitive 
principles called in the author's former work? What work alluded to? 
Author's remarks about the nature of these truths. 

4 



38 



PRELIMINARY 'OBSERVATIONS. [SEC. II 



principles to guide him in his intellectual and physical 
relations, independently of any acquired knowledge, 
we might naturally expect to find him endowed, in the 
same manner, with principles adapted to his more im- 
portant relations as a moral being. We might natu- 
rally expect, that in these high concerns, he would not 
be left to the knowledge which he might casually ac- 
quire, either through his own powers of investigation 
or reasoning, or through instruction received from other 
men. Impressions adapted to this important end we 
accordingly find developed in a remarkable manner, 
and they are referable to that part of our constitution 
which holds so important a place in the philosophy of 
the mind, by which we perceive differences in the mo- 
ral aspect of actions, and approve or disapprove of them 
as right or wrong. The convictions derived from this 
source seem to occupy the same place in the moral 
system, that first truths, or intuitive articles of belief, 
do in the intellectual. Like them, also, they admit of 
no direct proofs by processes of reasoning ; and, when 
sophistical/arsfuments are brought against them, the 
^^hfy true- answer consists in cin appeal to the conscience 
of every uncontaminated mhid ; by -^^bicfe we mean 
chiefly the consciousness of its own moral impressions, 
in a mind which has not been degraded in its moral 
perceptions by a course of personal depravity. This 
is a consideration of the utmost practical importance; 
audit will probably appear that many well-intended 
arguments, respecting the first principles of moral truth, 
have been inconclusive, in the same manner as were 



Should we expect first principles in moral science to be implanted in the 
mind ? Why ? Do these first principles admit of proof? Proper reply to 
argLments against them ? 



SEC. II.] FIRST TRUTHS IN MORAL SCIENCE. 



39 



attempts to establish first truths by processes of reason- 
ing, because the line of argument adopted in regard to 
them was one of which they are not susceptible. The 
foice of this analogy is in ho degree weakened by the 
fact, that there is, in many cases, an apparent difference 
between that part of our mental constitution on which 
is- founded our conviction of first truths, and that prin- 
ciple from which is derived our impression of moral 
truth: for the former continues the same in every 
mind which is neither obscured by idiocy nor distorted 
by insanity ;Hbut ihe moral feelings become vitiated by 
a process of the mind itself, by which it has gradually 
gone astray from rectitude. Hence the difference 
we find in the decisions of different men, respecting 
moral truth, arising from peculiarities in their own men- 
tal condition ; and hence that remarkable obscuration 
of mind, at which some men at length arrive, by which 
the judgment is entirely perverted respecting the first 
great principles of moral purity. When, therefore, we 
appeal to certain principles in the mental constitution, 
as the source of our first impressions of moral truth, 
our appeal is made chiefly to a mind which is neither 
obscured by depravity, nor bewildered by the refine- 
ments of a false philosophy : it is made to a mind in 
which conscience still holds some degree of its rightful 
authority, and in which there is a sincere and honest 
desire to discover the truth. These two elements of 
character must go together in eve^y correct inquiry in 
moral science : and, to a man in an opposite condition, 

Aji|>arent difference between first truths in intellectual scier.ee, and first 
principles in moral science ? Can either be ever eradicated from the mind 7 
Which ? In what way are they eradicated or corrupted 7 



40 



PRELIMINARY OBSERVATIONS. 



[sec. 11, 



we should no more appeal, in regard to the principles 
of moral truth, than we should take from the fatuous 
person or the maniac oui test of those first principles 
of intellectual truth, which are allowed to be original 
elements of belief in every sound mind. 

To remedy the evils arising from this diversity and 
distortion of moral perception, ie one of the objects of 
divine revelation. By means of it there is introduced 
a fixed and uniform standard of moral truth ; but, it is 
of importance to remark, that, for the authority of this, 
an appeal is made to principles in the mind itself, and 
(hat every part of it challenges the assent of the man 
m whom conscience has not lost its power in the men- 
tal economy. 

Keeping in view the distinction which has now been 
referred to, it Avould appear, that there are certain first 
principles of moral truth, which arise in the mind by 
the most simple process of refl'ection, either as consti- 
tuting its own primary moral convictions, or as follow- 
ing from its consciousness of these convictions by a 
plain and obvious chain of relations. These are chiefly 
the following. 

1. A perception of the nature and quality of actions, as 
]ust or unjust, right or wrong ; and a conviction of 
certain duties, as of justice, veracity, and benevolence, 
which every man owes to his fellow-men. ^Every man 
in his own case, again, expects the same offices from 
others; and on this reciprocity of feeling is founded 

Object of divine revelation. What is introduced into it ? Wiiat appeal of- 
ten made in the Scriptures ? Result of the fore.s^oin^ consirlerntions ? What 
IS the first of these elementary principles ? 



SEC. II.] 



FIRST TRUTHS IN MORAL SCIENCE. 



41 



the precept, which is felt to be one of universal oLliga- 
tion, to do to others as we would that they should do 
to us. 

II. From this primary moral impression, there 
arises, by a most natural sequence, a conviction of the 
existence and superintendence of a great moral Governor 
of the universe, a being of infinite perfection and infi- 
nite purity. A belief in this Being, as the first great 
cause, is derived, as we have formerly seen, by a sim- 
ple step of reasoning, from a survey of the works of na- 
ture, taken in connection with the first truth, that 
every event must have an adequate cause. Our sense 
of his moral attributes arises, with a feeling of equal 
certainty, when, from the moral impressions of our own 
minds, we infer the moral attributes of him who thus 
formed us. 

III. From these combined impressions, there natu- 
rally springs a sense of moral responsibility ; or a con- 
viction, that, for the due performance of the duties 
which are indicated by the conscience, or moral con- 
sciousness, man is responsible to the Governor of the 
universe ; and farther, that to this Being he owes, more 
immediately, a certain homage of the moral feelings, 
entirely distinct from the duties which he owes to his 
fellow-men. 

IV. From this chain of moral convictions, it is im- 
possible to separate a deep impression of continued ex- 
istence, or of a state of being beyond the present life, 
and of that as a state of moral retribution. 

Second principle ? Is this strictly intuitive ? How derived? Our ideas 
of moral attributes of the Deity ? Third principle ? Nature of it ? Fourth 
principiej relating to a future existence. 

4* 



42 



PRELIMINARY OBSERVATIONS. 



[sec. n. 



Thetjonsideration of these important objects of belief 
will afterwards occur to us in various parts of our in- 
quiry. They are briefly stated here, in reference to 
the place which they hold as First Truths, or primary 
articf.as of moral behef, which arise by a natural and 
obvious chain of sequence, in the moral conviction of 
every sound understanding. For the truth of them we 
appeal not to any process of reasoning, properly so 
called: but to the conviction which forces itself upon 
every regulated mind. Neither do we go abroad among 
savage nations, to inquire whether the impression of 
them be universal ; for this may be obscured in com- 
munities, as it is in individuals, by a course of moral 
degradation. We appeal to the casuist himself, whe- 
ther, in the calm moment of reflection, he can divest 
himself of their power. We appeal to the feelings of 
the man who, under the consciousness of guilt, shrinks 
from the dread of a present Deity, and the anticipation 
of a future reckoning. But chiefly we appeal to the 
conviction of him, in whom conscience retains its right- 
ful supremacy, and who habitually cherishes these mo- 
mentous truths, as his guides in this life in its relation 
to the life that is to come. 

In applying to these important articles of belief the 
name of First Truths, or primary principles of moral 
conviction, I do not mean to ascribe to them any thing 
of the nature of innate ideas. I mean only that they 
arise, v/iih a rapid or instantaneous conviction, entirely 
distinct from what we call a process of reasoning, in 

Are these truths to be hereafter considered more fully ? Why then are 
they mentioned here ? The ground of our belief of them ? Is belief of ihem 
universal ? Why not 7 Can one whose moral powers have not become cor- 
rupted, doubt them ? 



SEC. II.] FIRST TRUTHS IN MORAL SCIENCE. 



43 



every regulated mind, when it is directed, by the most 
simple coarse of reflection, to the phenomena of nature 
without, and to the moral feelings of which it is con- 
scious within. It appears to be a point of the utmost 
practical importance, that we should consider them as 
thus arising out of principles which form a part of our 
moral constitution; as it is in this way only that we 
can consider them as calculated to influence the mass 
of mankind. For, if we do not beheve them to arise, 
in this manner, by the spontaneous exercise of every 
uncorrupted mind, there are only two methods by 
which we can suppose them to originate : the one is a 
direct revelation from the Deity ; the other is a process 
of reasoning or of investigation, properly so called, 
analogous to that by which Ave acquire the knowledge 
of any principle in natural science. We cannot believe 
that they are derived entirely from revelation, because 
we find the belief existing where no revelation is known, 
and because we find the sacred writers appealing to 
them as sources of conviction existing in the mental 
constitution of every man. There is an obvious ab- 
surdity, again, in supposing that principles which are 
to regulate the conduct of responsible beings, should be 
left to the chance of being unfolded by processes of rea- 
soning, in which diff'erent minds may arrive at different 
conclusions, and in regard to Vv^iich many are incapa- 
ble of following out any argument at all. What is 
called the argument a priori for the existence and attri- 
butes of the Deity, for instance, conveys little that is 

Why are they to be considered as first truths ? What are the only two 
other ways of accounting for our belief of ihcm ? Difficulty in regard lo the 

first? to the second? Value of argument on these truths. Apviori 

argument to prove the existence of the Deity. 



44 



PRELIMINARY OBSERVATIONS. 



[sec. II. 



c^ncliis-ve to most minds, and to many is entirely in- 
comprehensible. The same observation may be ap- 
plied to those well-intended and able arguments, by 
which the probability of a future state is shown from 
analogy and from the constitution of the mind. These 
are founded chiefly on three considerations, — the ten- 
dency of virtue to produce happiness, and of vice to be 
followed by misery, — the unequal distribution of good 
and evil in the present life, — and the adaptation of our 
moral faculties to a state of being very different from 
that in which we are at present placed. There is 
much in these arguments calculated to elevate our con- 
ceptions of our condition as moral beings, and of that 
future state of existence for which we are destined; 
and there is much scope for the highest powers of rea- 
soning, in showing the accordance of these truths with 
the soundest inductions of true philosophy. But, not- 
withstanding all their truth and all their utility, it may 
be doubted whether they are to any one the foundation 
of his faith in another state of being. It must be ad- 
mitted, at least, that their force is felt by those only 
whose minds have been in some degree trained to ha- 
bits of reasoning, and that they are therefore not 
adapted to the mass of mankind. But the truths 
Avhich they are intended to establish are of eternal 
importance to men of every degree, and we should 
therefore expect them to rest upon evidence which 
finds its Avay with unerring aim to the hearts of the 

Are a priori arguments in favor of a future state conclusive ? (For the 
nature of " a priori arguments," see some treatise on logic.) On what three 
considerations founded? Proper effect of them? Are they sufficient as 
a foundation for our faith ? Are they or not adapted to the mass of man- 
kirxd? 



SEC. II.] FIRST TRUTHS IN BIORAL SCIEISTCE. 45 

tmleanied. The unanswerable reasonings of Butler 
never reached the ear of the gray-liaired pious pea- 
sant; but he needs not their powerful aid to establish 
his sure and certain hope of a blessed immortality. 
It is no induction of logic that has transfixed the heart 
of the victim of deep remorse, when he withers be- 
neath an influence unseen by human eye, and shrinks 
from the anticipation of a reckoning to come. In both, 
the evidence is within, — a part of the original constitu- 
tion of every rational mind, planted there by him who 
framed the wondrous fabric. This is the power of 
conscience: — with an authority, which no man can 
put avv^ay from him, it pleads at once for his own fu- 
ture existence, and for the moral attributes of an omni- 
potent and ever-present Deity. In a healthy state of 
the moral feelings, the man recognises its claim to 
supreme dominion. Amid the degradation of guilt, it 
still raises its voice and asserts its right to govern the 
whole man ; and, though its warnings are disregarded, 
and its claims disallowed, it proves within his inmost 
soul an accuser that cannot be stilled, and an avenging 
spirit that never is quenched. 

Similar observations apply to the uniformity of mo- 
ral distinctions, or the conviction of a certain line of 
conduct which man owes to his fellow-men. There 
have been many controversies and various contending 
systems in reference to this subject ; but I submit that 
the question may be disposed of in the same manner as 
the one now mentioned. Certain fixed and defined 
principles of relative duty appear to be recognised by 



AVhat work of Butler is alluded to ? What evidence has every man of a 
judgment to come ? Power and permanence of conscience ? 



46 



PRELUMINARY OBSERVATIONS. 



[sec. IL 



the consent of mankind, as an essential part of then: 
moral constitution, by as absolute a conviction as that 
by which are recognised our bodily qualities. The 
hardened criminal, Avhose life has been a series of in- 
justice and fraud, when at length brought into circum- 
stances which expose him to the knowledge or the 
retribution of his fellow-men, expects from them vera- 
city and justice, or perhaps even throws himself upon 
their mercy. He thus recognises such principles as a 
part of the moral constitution, just as the blind man, 
when he has missed his way, asks direction of the lirst 
person he meets, presuming upon the latter possessing 
a sense which, though lost to him, he still considers as 
belonging to every sound man. In defending himself, 
also, the criminal shows the same recognition. For, 
his object is to disprove the alleged facts, or to frame 
excuses for his conduct ; — he never attempts to ques- 
tion those universal principles by which he feels that 
his actions must be condemned, if the facts are proved 
against him. Without such principles, indeed, thu^ 
universally recognised, it is evident that the whole 
system of human things would go into confusion and 
ruin. Human laws may restrain or punish gross acts 
of violence and injustice ; but they can never provide 
for numberless methods by which a man may injure 
his neighbor, or promote his own interest at the ex 
pense of others. There are, in fact, but a very few 
cases which can be provided for by any human insti- 
tution ; it is a principle within that regulates the whole 

Are there certain fixed principles of duty recognised by mankind ? Exam- 
pie ot tliis ? The criminal's mode of defence ? Inference from this ? Ne- 
cessity of such principles ? Would human laws be sufficient without tliem 
Why not ? 



SEC. n.J FIRST TRUTHS IN MORAL SCIENCE. 4/ 



moral economy. In its extent and importance, when 
compared with all the devices of man, it may be likened 
to those great principles which guide the movements 
of the universe, contrasted with the contrivances by 
which men produce particular results for their own 
convenience ; and one might as well expect to move a 
planet by machinery, or propel a comet by the power 
of steam, as to preserve the semblance of order in the 
moral world, without those fundamental principles of 
rectitude which form a part of the original constitution 
of every rational being. 

Farther, as each man has the consciousness of these 
principles in himself, he has the conviction that similar 
principles exist in others. Hence arises the impression, 
that, as he judges of their conduct by his own moral 
feelings, so will they judge of him by corresponding 
feelings in themselves. In this manner is produced 
that reciprocity of moral impression, by which a man 
feels the opinion of his fellow-men to be either a re- 
ward or a punishment; and hence also springs that 
great rule of relative duty, which teaches us to do to 
others as we would that they should do to us. Tliis 
uniformity of moral feeling and affection even proves a 
check upon those who have subdued the influence of 
these feelings m themselves. Thus, a man who has 
thrown off all sense of justice, compassion, or benevo- 
lence, is still kept under a certain degree of control by 
the conviction of these impressions existing in those 
by whom he is surrounded. There are indeed men in 

To what are these principles compared ? Conviction of the mind in re 
spect to the principles of others ? What moral effects spring from tlas ? 
Moral restraint exerted by it ? 



48 



PRELIMINARY OBSERVATIONS. 



[sec. n. 



the world, as has been remarked by Butler, in whom 
this appears to be the only restraint to which their 
conduct is subjected. 

Upon the whole, therefore, there seems to be ground 
for assuming, that the articles of belief, which have 
been the subject of the preceding observations, are pri- 
mary principles arising v/ith an immediate feeling of 
conviction in our moral constitution; and that they 
correspond with those elements in our intellectual eco- 
nomy, which are commonly called First Truths, — 
principles which are now universally admitted to re- 
quire no o^er evidence than the conviction which 
forces itself upon every sound understanding. 



PHILOSOPHY 

OF 

THE MORAL FEELINGS. 



The preceding sections of this work have been only prelu 
minary. They have related to the nature of the science 
itself, and to those great First Principles, or Elementary 
Truths, on which the whole science must be based. The 
author now first enters upon the main subject. He accord- 
ingly first analyzes man as a moral being, and from this 
analysis deduces the plan which he shall pursue in the w^ork; 
and then, in the succeeding sections, considers the subject 
according to its several divisions. It is important that the 
pupil should keep distinctly in view, as he proceeds, the plan 
and progress of the discussion. 

hen we analyze the principles which distinguish 
man as a moral being, our attention is first directed to 
his actions, as the external phenomena by which we 

Nature of the preceding sections. To T^-hat two preliminary topics liave 
they related ? Does the author, or not, now enter upon the main subject ? 
Meaning of analyze? What deduced from the analysis ? To what is the 
attention first directed in the analysis ? 



50 



ANALYSIS OF THE MORAL FEELINGS 



judge of his internal principles. It is familiar to eveiy 
one, however, that the same action may proceed from 
very different motives, and that, when we have the 
means of estimating motives or princij^Ies, it is from 
these that we form our judgment respecting the moral 
condition of the individual, and not from his actions 
alone. When we consider separately the elements 
which enter into the economy of an intelligent and 
responsible agent, they seem to resolve themselves into 
the following :— 

I. His actual conduct, or actions. 

II. In determining his conduct, the immediate prin- 
ciple is his will, or simple volition. He wills some 
act, and the act follows of course, unless it be pre- 
vented by restraint from without, or by physical ina- 
bility to perform it. These alone can interfere with a 
man following the determination of his will, or simple 
volition. 

III. The objects of will or simple volition are refera- 
ble to two classes, — objects to be obtained, and ac- 
tions to be performed to others; and these are con- 
nected with two distinct mental conditions, which exist 
previously to the act of volition. In regard to objects 
to be obtained, this mental condition is Desire; in 

How are actions to be regarded ? Does the same action alwa^^s proceed 
from the same motives? Judgment in respect to moral condition to be 
formed from what? First element to be considered. Second element. 
Do the actions always obey the volitions ? The only exception, what 7 
Third element. Two classes of objects of the will? What two mental 
conditions corresponding to them? Which of these relates to object^ lo be 
obtmned ? Which to actions towards others ? 



ANALYSIS OF THE MORAL FEELINGS. 



51 



regard to actions towards others, it is Affection. The 
Desires and Aliections. therefore, hold a place in the 
mind previous to volition. From one of them origi- 
nates the mental state which, mider certain regulations, 
leads to volition, or to our willing a certain act. The 
act, which is then the result of the volition, consists 
either in certain efforts towards attaining the object 
desired, or in certain conduct tov\^ards other men, 
arising out of our affections or mental feelings towards 
them. The Desires and Affections, therefore, may be 
considered as the primary or moving powers, from 
which our actions proceed. In connection with them 
we have to keep in view another principle, which has 
an extensive influence on our conduct in regard to both 
these classes of emotions. This is Self-love; which 
leads us to seek our own protection, comfort, and ad- 
vantage. It is a sound and legitimate principle of 
action when kept in its pro}Xir place : when allowed 
to usurp an undue influence, it degenerates into sel- 
fishness; and it then interferes in a material degree 
with the exercise of the aflections. or, in other words, 
with our dut}' to other men. 

IV. VsQ have next to attend to the fact, that every 
desire is not followed by actual volition towards obtain- 
ing the object : and that every aff^ection does not lead 
to the conduct which might flow from it. Thus a man 



Are they to be considered as previous, or sul scquent to volitions? What 
is meant by this? Which are to be considered the primar\' or moving pow- 
ers ? What other principle to be kept in view in connection with them ? Its 
nature ? When excessive what does it become ? Fourth element of inquiry. 
Are the Desires and Affections alwa^'s effectual in leading to volition an4 
action ? 



52 



ANALYSIS OF THE MORAL FEELINGS. 



may feel a desire which, after consideration, he deter- 
mines not to gratify. Another may experience an 
affection, and not ?tCt upon it; he may feel benevo- 
lence or friendship, and yet act, in the particular case, 
with cold selfishness ; or he may feel the impulse of 
anger, and yet conduct himself with forbearance. 
When, therefore, we go another step backwards in the 
chain of moral sequences, our attention is directed to 
certain principles by which the determination is actu- 
ally decided, either according to the desire or affection 
which is present to the mind, or in opposition to it. 
This brings us to a subject of the utmost practical im- 
portance : and the principles, which thus decide the 
determination of the mind, are referable to two heads. 

(1.) The determination or decision may arise out of 
a certain state of arrangement of the moving powers 
themselves, in consequence of which some one of them, 
has acquired a predominating influence in the moral 
system. This usually resuhs from habit, or frequent 
indulgence, as we shall see in a subsequent part of our 
inquiry. A man, for example, may desire an object, 
but perceive that the attainment would require a degree 
of exertion greater than he is disposed to devote to it. 
This is the preponderating love of ease, a branch of 
self-love. Another may perceive that the gratification 
would impair his good name, or the estim.ation in 
which he is anxious to stand in the eyes of other 
men. This is the predominating love of approbation, 
or regard to character. In the same m.anner, a third 



Examples, illustrative. Power of determination. First ground of deter- 
mination mentioned ? Examples given. Various predominating principles 
mentionedj which might prevent action. 



ANALYbIS OF THE MOllAL FEELINGS. 



63 



may feel that it would interfere with his schemes of 
avarice or ambition ; and so in regard to the other 
desires. On a similar principle, a man may experience 
a strong impulse of anger, but perceive that there 
would be danger in gratifying it, or that he would 
promote his reputation or his interest by not acting 
upon it; he may experience a benevolent affection, 
but feel that the exercise would interfere too much with 
his personal interest or comfort. 

(2.) The determination may arise from a sense of 
duty, or an impression of moral rectitude, apart from 
every consideration of a personal nature. This is the 
Moral Princijjle^ or Conscience : in CA^ery mind in a 
state of moral health, it is the supreme and regulating 
principle, preserving among the moving powers a cer- 
tain harmon3^ to each other, and to the principles of 
moral rectitude. It often excites to conduct which 
requires a sacrifice of self-love, and so prevents this 
principle from interfering with the sound exercise of 
the affections. It regulates the desires, and restrams 
them by the sim.ple rule of purit}' ; it directs and regu- 
lates the affections in the same manner by the high 
sense of moral responsibility; and it thus maintains 
order and harmony in the whole moral system. 

One of the chief diversities of human character, in- 
deed, arises from the circumstance of one man being 
habitually influenced by the simple and straight-for- 
ward principle of duty, and another merely by a kind 
of contest between desires and motives of a very infe- 



Second sround of determinati*. ti Nature of Moral PriDciple ? Its pro 

vince and importance ? Its effect upon self-love ? Upon the desires * 

the affections 7 Cause of one of the chief diversities of human character ? 



64 



ANALYSIS OF THE MOKAL FEELINGS. 



rior or selfish nature. Thus also we acquire a know- 
ledge of the moral temperament of different men, and 
learn to adapt our measures accordingly in our trans- 
actions with them. In endeavoring, for example, to 
excite three individuals to some act of usefulness, we 
come to know, that in one we have only to appeal to 
his sense of duty ; in another to his vanity or love of 
approbation ; while we have no hope of making any 
impression on the third, unless we can make it appear 
to bear upon his interest. 

V. The principles referred to under the preceding 
heads are chiefly those which regulate the connection 
of man with his fellow-men. But there is another 
class of emotions, in their nature distinct from these ; 
though, in a practical point of view, they are much 
connected. These are the emotions which arise out 
of his relation to the Deity. The regulation of the 
moral feelings, in reference to this relation, will there- 
fore come to be considered in a department of the in- 
quiry devoted to themselves, in connection with the 
views of the character and attributes of God, which we 
obtain from the light of reason and conscience. 

This analysis of the principles which constitute the 
moral feelings indicates the farther division of our in- 
quiry in the following manner : — 

I. The DesireSj — the Affections, — and Self-love. 

n. The Will. 

Modes of influencing different men ? To what connection do tne preceding 
principles relate ? What other important connection does man sasiam? 
What four heads of inquiry result from this analysis ? 



ANALYSIS OF THE MORAL FEELINGS. 



65 



III. The Moral Principle, or Conscience. 

IV. The moral relation of man towards the Deity. 

These constitute what may be called the active 
principles of man, or those which are calculated to 
decide his conduct as a moral and responsible being. 
In connection with them, there is another class of feel- 
ings, which may be called passive or connecting emo- 
tions. They exert a considerable influence of a secon- 
dary kind; but, in an essay which is meant to be 
essentially practical, it perhaps will not be necessary 
to do more than enumerate them in such a manner as 
to point out their relation to the active principles. 

When an object presents qualities on account of 
which we wish to obtain it, we feel desire. If we have 
reason to think that it is within our reach, Ave experi- 
ence hoj)e ; and the effect of this is to encourage us in 
our exertions. If we arrive at such a conviction as 
leaves no doubt of the attainment, this is confidence^ 
one of the forms of that state of mind which we call 
faith. If we see no prospect of attaining it, we gi ve 
way to despair ; and this leads us to abandon all 
exertion for the attainment. When we obtain the ob- 
ject, we experience pleasure or joij ; if we are disap- 
pointed, we feel regret. If, again, we have the pros- 
pect of some evil which threatens us, we experience 
fear^ and are thereby excited to exertions for averting 
it. If we succeed in doing so, we experience joij ; if 
not, we feel sorroiv. If the evil seem unavoidable, we 

What may these principles be called? What other class of feelings? 
Nature of their influence ? , How far will they be treated in this v/ork ? Name 
some of these. Under what circumstances do we feel desire ? Hope ? Con- 
fidence ? Despair ? Pleasure or joy 7 Regret ? Fear ? Joy ? Sorrow ? 



66 



ANALYSIS OF THE MORAL FEELINGS. 



again giv? way to despair^ and are thus led to relin- 
quish all attempts to avert it. — Similar emotions at- 
tend on the affections. When we experience an affec- 
tion, we desire to be able to act upon it. When we 
see a prospect of doing so, we hope ; if there seem to 
be none, we despai?^ of accomplishing our object. 
When we have acted upon a benevolent affection, or 
according to the dictates of the moral principle, we 
experience self-approbation ; when the contrary, we 
feel remorse. When either a desire or an affection has 
acquired an undue influence, so as to carry us forward 
in a manner disproportioned to its real and proper ten- 
dencies, it becomes a passion. 



Seli-approbation ? What is a passion ? 



PART L 



OP THE DESIRES, THE AFFECTIONS, AjSD 
SELF-LOVE. 



S E C. I. 

THE DESIRES. 

Desire is the immediate movement or act of the 
mind towards an object which presents some quahty on 
account of which we wish to obtain it. The objects 
of desire, therefore, embrace all those attainments and 
gratificationSj which mankind consider worthy of be- 
ing sought after. The object pursued, in each particu- 
lar case, is determined by the vie^vs, habits, and itioa'al 
dispositions of the individual. In this manner, one 
person may regard an object as above every other 
worthy of being sought after, which to another appears 
insignificant or worthless. The principles which regu- 
late these diversities, and consequently form one of the 
great differences in human cliaracter, belong to a sub- 
sequent part of our inquiry. 

What is the first head according to the preceding plan ? What is desire ? 
The objects of desire, what ? How is the object to be pursued determined! 
Diflfprent views of different minds. 



68 DESIRES. [part I. 

In forming a classification of the desires, we must be 
guided simply by the nature of the various objects 
which are desired. Those which may be specified as 
the most prevalent, and the most clearly to be distin- 
guished as separate, may be referred to the following 
heads. 

I. The gratification of the animal propensities, com- 
monly called the Appetites. These, which we possess 
in common with the lower animals, are implanted in 
us for important purposes ; but they require to be kept 
under the most rigid control, both of reason and of the 
moral principle. When they are allowed to break 
through these restraints, and become leading principles 
of action, they form a character the lowest in the scale, 
whether intellectual or moral ; and it is impossible to 
contemplate a more degraded condition of a rational 
and moral being. The consequences to society are 
also of the most baneful nature. Without alluding to 
the glutton or to the drunkard, what accumulated 
guilt, degradation, paid wretchedness folloAV the course 
of the libertine, — blasting whatever comes within the 
reach of his influence, and extending a demoralizing 
power alike to himvdio inflicts and to those who sufier 
the wrong. Thus is constituted a class of evils, of 
which no human lavv^- can take any adequate cogni- 
zance, and Avhich therefore raise our views, in a special 
and peculiar manner, to a supreme Moral Governor. 



By what are we to be guided in classifying tlie desires ? First class. Are 
these peculiar to man ? iCecessity of control. Consequences to the indiv:- 
dual of nol restraining them 7 — to society ? Examples. Are human lav s 
adequate to restrain the appetites ? 



SBC. I.] 



WEALTH POWER. 



.^9 



II. The Desire of Wealth, commonly called Avarice ; 
though avarice is perhaps justly to be regarded as 
the morbid excess or abuse of the propensity. This is 
properly to be considered as originating in the desire to 
possess the means of procuring other gratifications. 
But, by the influence of habit, the desire is trans- 
ferred to the thing itself; and it often becomes a kind 
of mania, in which there is the pure love of gai.i, with- 
out the application of it to any other kind of enjoyment. 
It is a propensity which may, in a remarkable manner, 
engross the whole character, acquiring strength by 
continuance ; and it is then generally accompanied by 
a contracted selfishness, which considers nothing as 
mean or unworthy that can be made to contribute to 
the ruling passion. This may be the case even when 
the propensity is regulated by the rules of justice ; if 
it break through this restraint, it leads to fraud, extor- 
tion, deceit, and injustice, and, under another form, 
to theft or robbery. It is therefore always in danger 
of being opposed to the exercise of the benevolent affec • 
tions, leading a man to live for himself, and to study 
only the means calculated to promote his own interest. 

III. The Desire of Power, or Ambition. This is the 
love of ruling, of giving law to a circle, whether more 
or less extensive. When it becomes the governing 
propensity, the strongest principles of human nature 
give wa^^ before it, even those of personal comfort 

Second class of the desires. Common nanie ? Strict meaning of avarice '? 
Origin of the desire for wealth ? Its nature how changed by habit ? Its 
effects when excessive ? Can it, in such cases, be restrained by the princi- 
ples of justice? Its effects when not thus restrained? Third desire. Its 
effects when excessive. 



60 



DESIRES. 



[part L 



and safety. This we see iii the conqueror, who braves 
every danger, difficulty, and privation, for the attain- 
ment of power ; and in the statesman, who sacrifices 
for it every personal advantage, perhaps health and 
peace. The principle, however, assumes another form, 
which, according to its direction, may aim at a higher 
object. Such is the desire of exercising power over the 
minds of men ; of persuading a multitude, by argu- 
ments or eloquence, to deeds of usefulness ; of pleading 
the cause of the oppressed ; — a power of influencing the 
opinions of others, and of guiding them mto sound sen- 
timents and virtuous conduct. This is a species of 
power, the most gratifying by far to an exalted and 
virtuous mind, and one calculated to carry benefit to 
others Avherever it is exerted. 

lY. The Desire of Superiority, or Emulation. This 
is allied to the former, except that it does not include 
any direct wish to rule, but aims simply at the ac- 
quirement of pre-eminence. It is a propensity of exten- 
siA'e influence, and not ea^sily confined within the 
bounds of correct principle. It is apt to lead to undue 
means for the accomplishment of its object; and every 
real or imagmed failure tends to excite hatred and 
envy. Kence it requires the most careful regulation, 
and, when much encouraged in the young, is not free 
from the danger of generating malignant passions. Its 
influence and tendenc}^. as in other desires, depend in 
a great measure on the objects to which it is directed. 

Examples. Peculiar form which it sometimes takes. Nature and ohjectg 
of mtellectual ii-fluence. Fourth desire. Kow related to the preceding? 
Distinction between them ? Is it extensive or limited in its influence ? Its 
dangermis tendencies? Upon wfmt does its influence depend 



SEC. I.] 



SUPERIORITY SOCIETY. 



61 



It may be seen in the man who seeks to excel his asso- 
ciates in the gayety of his apparel, in the splendor of 
his equipage, or the hixury of his table. It is found in 
him whose proud distinction is to be the most fearless 
rider at a steeple-chase or a fox-himt, or to perform 
some other exploit, the only claim of which to admira- 
tion consists in its never having been performed before. 
The same principle, directed to more worthy objects, 
may influence him who seeks to be distinguished in 
some high pursuit, calculated to confer a lasting benefit 
upon his country or on human kind. 

Y. The Desire of Society. This has been considered 
by most writers on the subject as a prominent principle 
of human nature, showing itself at all periods of life, 
and in all conditions of civilization. In persons shut 
up from intercourse with their fellow-men. it has maid- 
fested itself in the closest attachment to animals : as if 
the human mind could not exist without some object on 
which to exercise the feelings intended to bind man to 
his fellows. It is found in the union of men in civil 
society and social intercourse, in the ties of friend- 
ship, and the still closer union of the domestic circle. 
It is necessaiy for the exercise of all the affections; 
and even our weaknesses require the presence of other 
men. There would be no enjoyment of rank or wealth, 
if there were none to admire : and even the misati- 
thrope requires the presence of another to whom his 
spleen may be uttered. The abuse of this princii)le 
leads to the contracted spirit of party. 

Examples of it 7 Fifth desire ? Ho',v does this desire show itself ? Does 
it ever have for its objects any but hunian beings I What are some of ita 
reQ'jl.ts ? Its abase leads to what ? 



62 



DESIRES. 



[part L 



YI. The Desire of Esteem and Approbation. This 
IS a principle of most extensive influence, and is in 
many instances the source of worthy and useful dis- 
plays of human character. Though inferior to the 
high sense of moral obligation, it may 3^et be considered 
a laudable principle ; as when a man seeks the appro- 
bation of others by deeds of benevolence, public spirit, 
or patriotism, — by actions calculated to promote the 
advantage or the comfort either of communities or indi- 
viduals. In the healthy exercise of it, a man desires 
the approbation of the good ; in the distorted use of it, 
he seeks merely the praise of a party, or perhaps, by 
deeds of a frivolous or even vicious character, aims at 
the applause of associates whose praise is worthless 
According to the object to which it is directed, there 
fore, the desire of approbation may be the attribute 
either of a virtuous or a perverted mind. But it is a 
principle which, in general, Ave expect to find ope- 
rating, m every well-regulated mind, under certain 
restrictions. Thus a man who is totally regardless of 
character, that is, of the opinion of all others respecting 
his conduct, we commonly consider as a person lost to 
correct virtuous feeling. On the other hand, however, 
there may be instances in which it is the quality of a 
man of the greatest mind to pursue some course to 
which, from adequate motives, he has devoted himself, 
regardless alike of the praise or the disapprobation of 
other men. The character in which the love of appro- 
Sixth desire, love of approbation. Its general character and effects ? lis 
action when in healthy exercise ? When distorted ? Is it, or not. very 
general in its operation ? Character of the man who is totally regardless of 
the opinions of others? Case in w^hich the disregard of the opinions of 
others is praiseworthy ? 



SEC. I.] 



ESTEEM AND APPROBATION. 



63 



bation is a ruling principle is therefore modified by the 
direction of it. To desire the approbation of the vir- 
tuous, leads to conduct of a corresponding kind, and tc 
steadiness and consistency in such conduct. 

To seek the approbation of the vicious, leads, of 
course, to an opposite character. But there is a third 
modification, presenting a subject of some interest, in 
which the prevailing principle of the man is a general 
love of approbation, without any discrimination of the 
characters of those whose praise is sought, or of the 
value of the qualities on account of vv^hich he seeks it. 
This is vanity; and it produces a conduct wavering 
and inconsistent, perpetual!}^ changing wiih the cir- 
cumstances m which the individual is placed. It often 
leads him to aim at admiration for distinctions of a 
Tery trivial character, or even for qualities which he 
does not really possess. It thus includes the love of 
flattery. Pride, on the other hand, as opposed to vani- 
ty, seems to consist in a man's entertaining a high opi- 
nion of himself, while he is indifferent to the opinion 
of others : thus we speak of a man who is too proud to 
be vain. 

Our regard to the opinion of others is the origin of 
our respect to character, in matters which do not come 
under the higher principle of morals : and is of exten- 
sive influence in promoting the harmonies, proprieties, 
and decencies of society. It is thus the foundation of 
good breeding, and leads to kindness and accommoda- 

Effects of desiring the approbation of the virtuous ? of the vicious ? 

Third form of it ? Name? Its effects ? Nature of pride? How does it 
differ from vanit}- ? Effects of this principle upon the social habits of the 
community 7 



64 



DESIRES. 



[part I. 



tion in little matters Avhich do not belong to the class 
of duties. It is also the source of wliat we usually call 
decorum and propriety, which lead a man to conduct 
himself in a manner becommg his character and cir- 
cumstances, in regard to things which do not involve 
any higher principle. For, apart entirely from any 
consideration either of morality or benevolence, there 
is a certain line of conduct which is unbecoming in all 
men ; and there is conduct which is becoming in some, 
though it might not in other men, and in some circum- 
stances, though it might not be so in others. It is 
unnecessary to add, how much of a man's respectability 
in life often depends upon finding his way, with proper 
discrimination, through the relations of society which 
are amenable to this principle ; or, by how many ac- 
tions which are not really wrong, a man may render 
himself despised and ridiculous. 

The love of esteem and approbation is also of exten- 
sive influence in the young, both in the conduct of edu- 
cation and the cultivation of general character ; and it 
is not liable to the o])jections, formerly referred to, 
which apply to the principle of Emulation. It leads 
also to those numerous expedients by Avhich persons of 
^ various character seek for themselves notoriety or a 
name ; or desire to leai^e a reputation behind them, 
v/iien they are no more. This is the love of posthu» 
mous fame, a subject which has afforded an extensive 
theme both for the philosopher and the humorist. 



Its relation to decorum ? Nature of decorum ? Effect of want of it upon 
a mail's respectability? Influence of this desire in the young? Is it more 
or less dangerous than emulation ? Meaning of the word posthumous 7 



SEC. I.] KNOWLEDGE MOKAL IMPROVEMENT. 



65 



VII. The Desire of Knowledge, or of Intellectual 
Acquirement, including the principle of Curiosity. 
The tendency of this high principle must depend, as in 
the former cases, on its regulation, and the objects to 
which it is directed. These may vary from the idle 
tattle of the day, to the highest attainments in literature 
or science. The principle ma)^ be applied to pursuits 
of a frivolous or useless kind, and to such acquirements 
as lead only to pedantry or sophism ; or it may be 
directed to a desultory application, which leads to a 
superficial acquaintance with a variety of subjects, 
without a correct knovv^edge of any of them. On the 
other hand, the pursuit of knowledge may be allowed 
to interfere with important duties which we ovre to 
others, in the particular situation in Avhich we are 
placed. A well-regulated judgment conducts the pro- 
pensity to worthy objects: and directs it in such a 
manner as to make it most useful to others. "With 
such due regulations, the principle ought to be carefully 
cultivated m the young. It is closely connected with 
that activity of mind which seeks for knowledge on 
every subject that comes Avithin its reach, and which 
is ever on the watch to make its knoAvledge more cor- 
rect and more extensive. 

YIII. The Desire of 3Ioral Improvement. This 
leads to the highest state of man; and it bears this 
peculiar character, that it is adapted, to nren in every 

Seventh head ? What principle is included ? Upon what does its tendency 
de3>end? Name some of the Tarioiis objects it m.ay have. Under what cir- 
fiumstances m.ay the pursuit of knowledge be carried too far ? How should 
It be regulated 7 Its effects when thus regulated. Eighth head. Its nature 
and tendency. 

6* 



66 



DESIRES. 



[part I 



scale of society, and tends to diffuse a beneficial influ- 
ence around the circle with which the individual is 
connected. The desire of power may exist in many, 
but its gratification is limited to a few : he who fails 
may become a discontented misanthrope ; and we who 
succeeds may be a scourge to his species. The desire 
of superiority or of praise may be misdirected in the 
same manner, leading to insolent triumph on the one 
hand, and envy on the other. Even the thirst for 
knowledge may be abused, and many are placed in 
circumstances in which it cannot be gratified. But the 
desire of moral improvement commends itself to every 
class of society, and its object is attainable by all. In 
proportion to its intensity and its steadiness, it tends to 
make the possessor both a happier and a better man, 
and to render him the instrument of diffusing happiness 
Ptud usefulness to all who come within the reach of his 
influence. If he be in a superior station, these results 
will be felt more extensively ; if he be in a humble 
sphere, they may be more limited: but their nature is 
the same, and their tendency is equally to elevate the 
character of man. This mental condition consists, as 
we shall after Avards have occasion to show more parti- 
, cularly, in a habitual recognition of the supreme au- 
thority of conscience over the whole intellectual and 
moral system, and in a habitual effort to have every 
desire and every affection regulated by the moral prin- 
ciple and by a sense of the divine Avill. It leads to a 
uniformity of character which can never flow from any 

What is said of the desire of power compared with it ? the desire of 

superiority? of knowledge ? Moral improvement, how extensivelj^ at- 
tainable? Its tendency. In what does elevated moral condition consist? 
Its effect upon the character ? 



SEC. I.] 



ACTION. 



67 



lower source, and to a conduct distinguished by tlie 
anxious discharge of every duty, and the practice ol 
the most active benevolence. 

The Emotions which have been now briefly men- 
tioned seem to inchide the more important of tiiose 
which pertain to the class of desires. There is, how- 
ever, another principle which ought to be mentioned as 
a leading pecuharity of human nature, though it may 
be somewhat difficult to determine the class to winch 
it belongs. This is the Desire of Action, — the restless 
activity of mind, which leads it to require some object 
on which its powers must be exercised, and without 
which it preys upon itself and becomes miserable. On 
this principle we are to explain several facts which are 
of frequent observation. A person accustomed to a 
life of activity longs for ease and retirement, and, 
when he has accomplished his purpose, finds himself 
wretched. The frivolous engagements of the unoccu- 
pied are referable to the sarne principle. They arise, 
not from any interest which such occupations really 
possess, but simply from the desire of mental excite- 
ment, the felicity of having something to do. The 
pleasure of relaxation, indeed, is known to those only 
who have regular and interesting employment. Con- 
tinued relaxation soon becomes a weariness : and, on 
this ground, we may safely assert, that the greatest 
degree of real enjoyment belongs, not to the luxurious 
man of wealth, or the listless votary of fashion, but to 

One more desire, not classed with the preceding ? Facts explained by it. 
From what do the frivolous employments of those unoccupied with serioui 
business arise ? Under what circumstances alone is inaction a pleasure I 
Effect of continued relaxation ? What classes of society are happiest ? 



68 



DESIRES. 



[part L 



the middle classes of society, who, along with the com- 
forts of life, have constant and important occupation. 
Apart, indeed, from actual suffering, I believe there is 
nothing in the external circumstances of individuals, 
of greater or more habitual importance for promoting 
personal happiness, than stated, rational, and interest- 
ing employment. 

The mental condition which we call Desire, appears 
to lie in a great measure at the foundation of character ; 
and, for a sound moral condition, it is required that 
the desires be directed to worthy objects, and that the 
degree or strength of them be accommodated lo the 
true and relative value of each of these objects. If the 
desires are thus directed, Avorthy conduct will be likely 
to folloAV in a steady and uniform manner. If they are 
allowed to break from the restraints of reason and the 
moral principle, the man is left at the mercy of unhal- 
lowed passion, and is liable to those irregularities which 
naturally result from such a derangement of the moral 
feelings. If, indeed, we would see the evils produced 
by desire, when not thus controlled, we have only to 
look at the whole history of human kind. What accu- 
mulated miseries arise from the want of due regulation 
of the animal propensities, in the various forms in 
which it degrades the character of rational and moral 
beings. What evils spring from the love of mone^^, 
and from the desire of power ; from the contests of ri- 
vals, and the tumults of party, what envy, hatred, ma- 

Rel'dtion of the desires to the character ? What state of the desires is ne- 
cessary to a sound moral condition? Consequences resulting from unro 
strained desires ? What are some of the desires named by the author, 
whose unrestrained action have made most misery in the world ? 



«EC. I.] 



REGULATION OF THE DESIRES. 



69 



lignity and revenge. What complicated wretchedness 
follows the train of ambition, — contempt of human 
siiflering, countries depopulated, and fields deUiged 
with blood. Such are the results of desire, when not 
directed to objects worthy of a moral being, and not 
kept under the rigid control of conscience, and the im- 
mutable laws of moral rectitude. When, in any of 
these forms, a sensual or selfish propensity is allowed to 
pass the due boundary which is fixed for it by reason 
and the moral principle, the mental harmony is de- 
stroyed, and even the judgment itself comes to be im- 
paired and distorted in that highest of all inquiries, the 
search after moral truth. 

The desires, indeed, may exist in an ill-regulated 
state, while the conduct is yet restrained by various 
principles, such as submission to human laws, a regard 
to character, or even a certain feeling of v^hat is mo- 
rally right, contending with the vitiated principle vvath- 
in. But this cannot be considered as the healthy 
condition of a moral being. It is only when the desire 
itself is sound, that Vv^e can say the man is in moral 
health. ^'He who grieves at his abstinence," says 
Aristotle, ^^is a voluptuary and this also is the great 
principle so often and so strikingly enforced in the 
sPcCred writings, ''Keep thy heart with all diligence, 
because out of it are the issues of life.'' ^' Blessed are 
the pure in heart, for they shall see God.'' Thus, 
there are desires which are folly, and there are desires 
which are vice, even though thc)^ should not be foi- 



ls the conduct necessarily Iiad when the desires are ill-regulated ? Ho\^ 
may it be restrained ? Is this a healthy moral condition ? Requirement of 
,lie word of God in respect to the desires. 



70 



AFFECTIONS. 



[part I. 



lowed by indulgence : and there are desires which tend 
to purify and elevate the moral nature, though their 
objects should be beyond the reach of our full attain- 
ment in the present state of being. ' Perfect moral 
purity is not the lot of man in this transient state, and 
is not to be attained by his own miaided efforts. But. 
subservient to it is that warfare within, that earnest 
and habitual desire after the^erfection of a moral be- 
ing, which is felt to be the great object of life, when it 
is viewed in relation to the life which is to come. For 
this attainment, however, man must feel his total 
inadequacy ; and the utmost efforts of human reason 
have failed in unfolding the requisite aid. The con- 
viction is thus forced upon us, that a higher influence 
is necessary ; and this influence is fully disclosed by 
the light of revealed truth. We are there taught to 
look for a power from on high, capable of effecting 
what human efforts cannot accomplish — the purifica- 
tion of the heart. 



SEC. II. 
THE AFFECTIONS. 

As the Desires are calculated to bring some gratfii- 
cation to* ourselves, the Affections lead us to our rela- 



The great object of life ? Are our ov/n unaided powers adequate to the 
work ? To what source must we look for aid ? 



SEC. IT.J AFFECTIONS. 71 

tions to other men, and to a certain line of conduct 
which arises out of these relations. 

Thus love of nC&ney, or of power, or the desire of knovv- 
ledge, and all the other desires enumerated in the preceding 
section, have for their object the procuring of some gratifica 
tion for ourselves ; it is the pleasure of the possession of the 
money, or the power, or the knowledge, which the mind rests 
upon. But the feelings of justice, benevolence, parental affec- 
tion, and the others brought to view in this section, are of a 
different nature. They are not desires seeking gratifications 
for ourselves, but feelings of duty to be performed towards 
others. Thus emulation belongs to the former class. It 
seeks a gratification for itself Patriotism and regard for 
truth appertain to the latter. They arise out of our relations 
to others, and urge us to certain duties towards them. These 
affections, or instinctive principles of duty towards otliers, are 
mov7 in this section to be considered, being the second part of 
the first great division in the author's plan. 

They are to be viewed as original principles of our 
nature, planted in us for wise purposes, and the opera- 
tion of them is to be considered as distinct both from 
that of the moral principle and of reason ; that is, from 
any sense of duty or the moral rectitude of the conduct 
to which they lead, and from any calculation of its 
propriety and utility. Thus, when the mother devotes 
her attention by day and night to her infant, if from 
sickness or helplessness in want of her special care, 

What is the precise distinction between the desires and the affections ? 

Name some examples of desires ; of affections. Is emulation one of the 

desires, or ol the affections ? Patriotism ? Avarice? Justice? Distinction 
between desires and affections 7 How to be regarded ? From what two 
principles are they to be particularly distinguished ? Example given ? , 



72 



AFFECTIONS. 



[part I. 



and perseveres in doing so, with total disregard of her 
own ease, health, or comfort, she is not influenced 
either by a sense of duty, or by any feehng of the uti- 
hty of her conduct: she acts upon an impulse within, 
wliich she feels to be a part of her constitution, and 
wliich carries her forward in a particular course of 
anxious and protracted exertion by the power of itself 
alone. This distinction appears to be of the utmost 
practical importance, and we shall have occasion to 
refer to it more particularly in the sequel. 

An Aftection, therefore, may be considered as an 
original feeling or emotion existing in ourselves, which 
leads us to a particular conduct towards other men, 
without reference to any principle except the intuitive 
impulse of the emotion itself The Affections have 
been divided into the Benevolent and the Malevolent ; 
but these titles appear to be incorrect, especially the 
latter, as the due exercise of the emotions to which it 
refers does not properly include what is called malevo- 
lence. They only tend to guard us against certain 
conduct in other men ; and, when they are allowed to 
go beyond this, that is, to a,ctual malevolence or re- 
venge, the application is morbid. It will therefore 
accord better with the nature of these emotions, to give 
them the names of Uniting, and Defensive Afiections ; 
the former including justice, benevolence, veracity, 
friendship, love, gratitude, patriotism, and the domestic 
affections ; the latter, jealousy, disapprobation, and 
anger. 

What is this example intended to show? How have the affections been 
divided ? Objection to this division. The author's division. What are in 
eluded under the head of Uniting affections ? Under Defensive affections 7 



SEC. II.] 



JUSTICE. 



73 



I. JUSTICE. 

There may be some difference of opinion in regard to 
the propriety of Inchiding Justice among the affections ; 
but it seems to be more nearly alHed to them than to 
any of the other classes of moral emotions which have 
been mentioned, and it may, therefore, as a mere mat- 
ter of arrangement, be conveniently introduced here. 
Strictly speaking, it might perhaps be considered as a 
combined operation of an affection and the moral prin- 
ciple; but this is matter of speculation alone. The 
important consideration relating to it is, that, in what- 
ever manner it arises, the sense of Justice is a primary 
and essential part of our moral constitution, conveying 
the distinct impression of certain conduct which a man 
owes to his fellow-men, without regard to any consi- 
derations of a personal nature, and apart from all posi- 
tive enactments or laws, either divine or human. The 
requirements of Justice embrace certain points in which 
every man has an absolute right, and in regard to 
which it is the absolute duty of every other man not to 
interfere v/ith him. These rights have usually been 
divided into three classes ; — what I have a right to pos- 
sess, and no man has any right to take from me, — :what 
I have a right to do, and no man has any title to pre- 
vent me from doing, — what I have a right to expect 
from other men, and it is their absolute duty to perform. 
These principles form the basis of what is called Na- 

Question in respect to Justice ? How might it, strictly speaking, be consi- 
aered? Nature of the sense of Justice ? Its influenc;? Into how many 
classes are the claims of justice to be divided ? 

7 



74 



AFFECTIONS. 



[part i. 



tural Jurisprudence, a code of relative duty deriving its 
authority from impressions which are found in the 
moral feehngs of all mankind, without regard to the 
enactments of any particular civil society. In the 
actual arrangements of civil communtties, these great 
principles of jus^xe are combined with others which 
are derived meiely from utility or expediency, as cal- 
culated to proMiote the peace or the advantage of the 
community. These may differ in different •countries, 
and they ce ise to be binding when the enactments on 
which the / rest are abrogated or changed. But no 
difference of place can alter, and no laws can destroy, 
the esse^ xtial requirements of justice. 

In tl ese observations, it Avill be remarked, the word 
Justice is used as expressing a principle of individual 
character ; and it is in this sense that it is to be pro- 
perly classed with the affections. The term is em- 
ployed in another sense, namely, that of distributive 
and corrective justice, which regulates the claims 
of individuals in a community, requires restitution 
or compensation for any deviation from such claims, 
or punishes those who have violated them. It is in 
the former sense that justice is properly to be con- 
sidered as a branch of the philosophy of the moral 
feelings; but the same general principles apply to 
both. 

The sense of Justice, therefore, consists in a feeling 
experienced by every man, of a certain line of conduct 

Name given to the system arising from these principles ? With what 
combined in the actual arrangements of society ? Difference between the 
essential principles of justice, and mere human enactments, in respect to 
their permanency. Two senses in which the term Justice is used. In 
which employed here ? The sense of Justice consists in what ? 



SEC. n.J 



JUSTICE. 



75 



which he owes to other men, in given circumstances ; 
and this seems to be referable to the following 
heads; attending to their interest;, not interfering with 
their freedom of action: preserving their reputation; 
estimating their character and motives ;•. judging of 
their opinions ; consulting their feelings j-^and preserv- 



for his conduct in particular instances, a man has usu- 
ally a distinct impression of what he thinks due by 
other men towards himself; justice requires that he 
rigidly extend to others the same feelings and conduct 
which, in similar circumstances, he expects from them. 

(1.) Justice is due to the persons, property, and 
interest of others. This constitutes integrity or ho- 
nesty. It, of course, implies abstaining from every 
kind of injury, and preserving a conscientious regard 
to their rights. In this last respect, it allows us to 
exercise a prudent attention to our own interest, pro- 
vided the means be fair and honorable, and that we 
carefully abstain from injurmg others by the measures 
we employ for this purpose. The great rule for our 
guidance, in all such cases, is foimd in the immutable 
principles of moral rectitude : the test of our conduct 
m regard to individual instances is, that it be such as, 
weie our own interest concerned, we should think fair 
and honorable in other men. 

(2.) Justice requires us not to interfere with the 
freedom of action of others. This constitutes personal 



ing or improving their moral 




To what heads referable. The golden rule. First requirement of justice 7 
Name ? Duties arising from it. Second requirement. 



76 



AFFECTIONS. 



[part I. 



liberty : but in all civil communities the right is Hable 
to certain restrictions ; as when a man uses his freedom 
of action to the danger or injury of other men. The 
principles of justice may also recognise a man's surren- 
dering, to a certain extent, his personal liberty, by 
mutual and voluntary compact, as in the case of ser- 
vants, apprentices, soldiers, &c. ; but they are opposed 
to slavery, in which the individual concerned is not a 
party to the arrangement. 

(3.) Justice enjoins a regard to the reputation of 
others. This consists in avoiding every thing that 
could be injurious to their good name, either by direct 
evil speaking, or such insinuations as might give rise 
to suspicion or prejudice against them. It must extend 
also to the counteracting of such insinuations, when 
we hear them made by others, especially in circum- 
stances in which the individual injured has no oppor- 
tunity of defending himself. It includes, farther, that 
we do not deny to others, even to rivals, any praise or 
credit which is justly due to them. There is, however, 
one modification, equally consistent with justice, to 
which the former of these rules is liable ; namely, that, 
m certain cases, we may be required to make a state- 
ment prejudicial to an individual, when duty to a third 
party or to the public makes it incumbent on us to do 
so. In such a case, a person guided by the rules of 
justice will go no farther than is actually required by 
the circumstances; and Avill at all times beware of 

Exceptions. Can a man justly surrender his own liberty? Slavery. 
Requirements of justice in respect to the reputation of others. What do 
they include ? In what cases is censure of others allowable ? Cautiun in 
reference to this. 



SEC. n.] 



JUSTICE. 



77 



propagating a report injurious to another, though he 
should know it to be strictly true, unless he is called 
upon by special duty to communicate it. 

(4.) Justice requires us not only to avoid injuring 
an individual in the estimation of other men, but to 
exercise the same fairness in forming our own opinion 
of his character, without being misled or biassed by 
passion or prejudice. This consists in estimating his 
conduct and motives with calmness and impartiality ; 
in regard to particular instances, making full allowance 
for the circumstances in which he was placed, and the 
feelings by which he was, or might be, at the time, 
naturally influenced. When an action admits of being 
referred to different motives, justice consists in taking 
the more favorable view, if we can do so with strict 
regard to truth, instead of harshly and hastily assign- 
ing a motive which is unworthy. Such justice in re- 
gard to character and motives we require to exercise 
with peculiar care, when the conduct referred to has 
been in any way opposed to our own self-love. In 
these cases we must be especially on our guard against 
the influence of the selfish principle, which might lead 
to partial and distorted views of actions and motives, 
less favorable to others, and more favorable to our- 
selves, than justice warrants. When viev^^ed in this 
manner, we may often perceive, that conduct, which 
gave rise to emotions of displeasure as injurious to us, 
was fully warranted by some conduct on our own 



Is it alwa^'s right to propagate injurious reports that are true ? Claims 
of justice in respect to our ov,-n opinions of others. How should these 
©pinions be formed ? Actions r&^erable to different motives ? 
7# 



78 



AFFECTIONS. 



[part I. 



part, or was required by some higher duty which the 
individual owed to another. 

(5.) Justice is to be exercised in judging of the 
opinions and statements of others. This constitutes 
candor. It consists in giving a fair and deUberate 
hearmg to their opinions, statements, and arguments, 
and weighing fairly and honestly their tendency. It 
is, therefore, opposed to prejudice, blind attachment to 
preconceived opinions, and that narrow, disputatious 
spirit which delights in captious criticism, and will 
hear nothing with calmness that is opposed to its own 
views ; which distorts or misrepresents the sentiments 
of its opponents, ascribing them to unworthy motives, 
or deducing from them conclusions which they do not 
warrant. Candor, accordingly, may be considered as 
a compound of justice and the love of truth. It leads 
us to give due attention to the opinions and statements 
of others, in all cases to be chiefly solicitous to dis- 
cover truth, and, in statements of a mixed character, 
containing perhaps much error and fallacy, anxiously 
to discover and separate what is true. It has accord- 
ingly been remarked, that a turn for acute disputation, 
and minute and rigid criticism, is often the character- 
istic of a contracted and prejudiced mind ; and that 
the most enlarged understandings are always the most 
indulgent to the statements of others, — their leading 
object being to discover truth. 

Cases in which we are in peculiar danger of misjudging. Candor, what ? 
To what is it opposed ? Nature of prejudice ? From what two elements 
does candor result ? Its infiuence ? What does a turn for disputation and 
minute criticism indicate ? Effect of an enlarged and liberal mind in respect 
to the statements and opinions of others ? 



SEC. n.] 



JUSTICE, 



79 



(6.) Justice is due to the feelings of others; and 
this applies to many circumstances which do not affect 
either their interest or their reputation. Wivhout in- 
juring them in any of these respects, or in our own 
good opinion, we may behave to them in such a man- 
ner as to wound tlieir feehngs. There are minds of an 
extreme dehcacy, which, in this respect, are pecuharly 
sensitive; towards these a person of correct feehngs 
strives to conduct himself with suitable tenderness. 
We may find, however, persons of honest and upright 
minds, who would shrink from the least approach to 
real injury, but yet neglect the necessary attention to 
the feelings ; and may even confer a real benefit in 
such a manner as to wound tlie individual to whom 
they intended kmdness. The lower degrees of this 
principle pertain to what is called mere good breeding, 
which has been defined benevolence in trifles ;'' but 
the higher degrees may restrain from conduct which, 
without any real injury, inflicts permanent pain. To 
this head we may perhaps also refer a due regard to 
the estimate which we lead a man to form of himself 
This is opposed to flattery on the one hand, and on 
the other to any unnecessary depreciation of his cha- 
racter. Flattery indeed is also to be considered as a 
violation of veracity. 

(7.) While, upon the principles V\^hich have been 
referred to, we abstain from injuring the interests, the 



Sixth claim of justice ? Can the feeling-s "be injured without wounding 
the intt-rest or the reputation? Duties towards persons peculiarly sensitive? 
Are these duties often or seldom neglected ? Good breeding ; how has u 
been sometimes defined 7 



80 AFFECTIONS. [PART I. 

reputation, or the feelings of others, there is another 
class of injuries, of still higher magnitude, which the 
conscientious mind will avoid with peculiar anxiety, 
namely, injuries done to the moral principles of other 
men. These form a class of offences of which no hu- 
man law takes any adequate cognizance ; but we 
know that they possess a character of the deepest 
malignity. Deep guilt attaches to the man who, by 
persuasion or ridicule, has unhinged the moral feelings 
of another, or has been the means of leading him 
astray from the paths of virtue. Of equal, or even 
greater malignity, is the aspect of the writer, whose 
works have contributed to violate the principles of 
truth and rectitude, to pollute the imagination, or 
corrupt the heart. Inferior offenders are promptly 
seized by public authority, and suffer the award of 
public justice ; but the destroyer of the moral being 
often walks securely through his own scene of moral 
discipline, as if no power could reach the measure of 
his guilt but the hand of the Eternal. 

To the same head we are to assign the extensive 
and important influence of example. There are few 
men who have not in this respect some power, but it 
belongs more particularly to persons in situations of 
rank and public eminence. It is matter of deep regret, 
both to the friend of virtue and the friend of his coun- 
try, when any of these are found manifesting disregard 
to sacred things, or giving an air of fashion to what is 
calculated to corrupt the moral principles of the un- 



Higher class of injuries spoken of under the seventh head. Their cha- 
racter ? Does the law take cognizance of them ? Different modes by which 
injury to the morals of others is done. Example. 



SEC. n.J COMPASSION AND BENEVOLENCE. ^ 81 

thinking classes of society. If they are restrained by 
no higher motive, the feeUngs of patriotism, and even 
of personal safety, ought to produce a solemn caution ; 
and it becomes them seriously to consider, whether 
they may not thus be sowing among the ignorant mul- 
titude the seeds of tumult, revolution, and anarchy. 



II. COMPASSION AND BENEVOLENCE. 

Great diversity exists in the condition of different 
individuals in the present state, some being in cir- 
cumstances of ease, wealth, and comfort, others of 
pain, deprivation, and sorrow. Such diversities we 
must consider as an arrangement established by the 
great disposer of all things, and calculated to promote 
important purposes in his moral government. Many 
of these purposes are entirely beyond the reach of our 
faculties; but, •as holding a prominent place among 
them, we may safely reckon the cultivation of our 
moral feelings, especially the affections of compassion 
and benevolence. The due exercise of these is, there- 
fore, calculated to promote a double object, namely, 
the alleviation of distress in others, and the cultiva- 
tion in ourselves of a mental condition peculiarly 
adap'ted to a state of moral discipline. By bringing 
us into contact with individuals in various forms and 
degrees of suffering, they tend continually to remind 
us, that the present scene is but the infancy of our 



Effects of bad example? Second class of affections ? Diversity in the 
condition of men. Cause and design of this diversity? Importance of cui 
tivatnig the benevolent feelings. Double object in tliis. 



82 



AFFECTIONS. [PART I 



existence, — that the beings whom we thns contemplate 
are the children of the same Almighty Father with 
ourselves, inheriting the same nature, possessed of the 
same feelings, and soon to enter upon another state of 
existence, when all the distinctions which are to be 
found in this world shall cease forever. They tend 
thus to withdraw us from the power of self-love, and 
the deluding influence of present things ; and habitu- 
ally to raise our views to that future life, for which 
the present is intended to prepare us. The due culti- 
vation of the benevolent afiections, therefore, is not 
properly to be considered as a source of moral appro- 
bation, but rather as a process of moral culture. They 
may enable us in some degree to benefit others, but 
their chief benefit is to ourselves. By neglecting them, 
we both incur much guilt, and deprive ourselves of an 
important means of improvement. The diligent exer- 
cise of them, besides being a source of moral advan- 
tage, is accompanied with a degree of ^mental enjoy- 
ment which carries with it its own reward. Such 
appears to be the correct view which we ought to take 
of the arrangement established by the Creator in this 
part of our constitution. It is calculated to correct a 
misconception of an important kind, which considers 
the exercise of the benevolent affections as possessing 
a character of merit. To this subject we shall have 
occasion to refer more particularly in the sequel. 

The exercise of the benevolent affections may be 
briefly treated of, under nearly the same heads as those 

Truths of which the exercise of them reminds us ? Tendency of benevolent 
efforts upon our own characters ? How is the cultivation of the benevolent 
affections to be considered ? Comparative benefit to ourselves and others? 
The reward ? Important misconception. 



£EC. II.] 



COMPASSION AND BENEVOLENCE. 



83 



referred to when considering the principle of justice ; 
keeping in mind that they lead to greater exertion for 
the benefit of others, and thus often demand a greater 
sacrifice of self-love, than is included under the mere 
requirements of justice. On the other hand, benevo- 
lence is not to be exercised at the expense of justice ; 
as would be the case, if a man were found relieving 
distress by such expedients as involve the necessity of 
withholding the payment of just debts, or imply the 
neglect or infringement of some duty which he owes 
to another. 

(1.) Compassion and benevolent exertion are due 
towards alleviating the distresses of others. This ex- 
ercise of them, in many instances, calls for a decided 
sacrifice of personal interest, and, in others, for consi- 
derable personal exertion. We feel our way to the 
proper measure of these sacrifices, by the high principle 
of moral duty, along Avith that mental exercise which 
places us in the situation of others, and, by a kind of 
reflected self-love, judges of the conduct due by us to 
them in our respective circumstaaices. — The details of 
this subject would lead us into a field too extensive for 
our present purpose. Pecuniary aid, by those who 
have the means, is the most easy form in which bene- 
volence can be gratified, and that which often requires 
the least, if any, sacrifice of personal comfort or self- 
love. The same afiection may be exercised in a de- 
gree much higher in itself, and often much more useful 

Heads under which the exercise of the benevolent afiections may be 
treated? Efforts of benevolence and of justice compared? Which superioi 
when they interfere. Example. First class of objects of benevolent effort 
T'ecuniary aid 1 



84 



AFFECTIONS. 



[part 1. 



to others, by personal exertion and personal kindness. 
The former, compared Avith the means of the indivi- 
dual, may present a mere mockery of mercy ; while 
the latter, even in the lowest walks of life, often exhi- 
bit the brightest displays of active usefulness that can 
adorn the human character. This high and pure 
benevolence not only is dispensed with willingnesSj 
when occasions present themselves ; but seeks out op- 
portunities for itself, and feels in want of its natural 
and healthy exercise when deprived of an object on 
which it may be bestowed. 

(2.) Benevolence is to be exercised towards the 
reputation of others. This consists not only in avoid- 
ing any injury to their characters, but in exertions to 
protect them against the injustice of others, — to correct 
misrepresentations, to check the course of slander, 
and to obviate the efforts of those who would poison 
the confidence of friends, or disturb the harmony of 
society. 

(3.) Benevolence is to be exercised towards the 
character and conduct of others ; especially when these 
have been in opposition to our personal interest or 
self-love. This consists in viewing their conduct with 
indulgence and forbearance, assigning the most favor- 
able motives, and making every allowance for their 
feelings, and the circumstances in v/hich they were 
placed. It leads us also to avoid all suspicions and 

Comparative value of pecuniary aid and personal exertion? Character 
of the higher and purer degrees of benevolence. Second object of benevolenl 
effort 7 In what does it consist ? Third object ? In what does it consist'* 
Assignment of motives. 



SEC. II.] 



COMPASSION AND BENEVOLENCE. 



85 



jealousies Avhich are not clearly justified by fact ; and 
to abstain to the utmost from taking offence, by put- 
ting upon the conduct of others the best construction 
of which it will possibly admit. It extends still farther 
to the actual forgiveness of injuries, and the repaying 
of evil with good, — a conduct represented in the sacred 
writings as one of the highest attainments the human 
character can reach, in so far as regards its relation to 
other men. 

(4.) Benevolence is to be exercised towards the 
feelings of others ; and this applies to many situations 
in which neither their interest nor their character is 
concerned. It includes those exercises of the kindly 
affections which produce so powerful an influence in 
all the relations of life, but which it is impossible for 
any description to delineate. It comprehends all our 
social and civil connections, but seems peculiarly to 
belong to our intercourse Avith inferiors and dependents. 
Its most anxious exercise may often relate merely to 
trifles, but it extends to innumerable circumstances in 
which we may surrender our own feelings to those of 
others, and our own convenience or gratification to 
theirs. It implies solicitude to avoid wounding the 
feelings by pride, selfishness, or fretfulness, by sus- 
picions, imputations, and jealousies, or by allowing 
insignificant things to ruffle the temper and derange 
the social comfort. Many, who are not deficient in 
what we usually call deeds of benevolence, are too 



Suspicions? Forgiveness of injuries. How is forgiveness spoken of in 
the Scriptures? Fourth o])ject. What included in regard for the feelings 
of others ? To what relation does this peculiarly apply Trifles ? 

8 



8b 



AFFECTIONS 



[part L 



apt to forget, that a most important exercise of true 
benevolence consists in the habitual cultivation of cour- 
tesy, gentleness, and kindness ; and that on these dis- 
positions often depends our influence upon the comfort 
and happiness of others, in a greater degree than on 
any deeds of actual beneficence. — To this department, 
also, we may refer the high character of the peace- 
maker, whose delight it is to allay angry feelings, even 
when he is in no degree personally interested, and to 
bring together as friends and brethren those who have 
assumed the attitude of hatred and revenge. 

(5.) Benevolence is to be exercised in regard to the 
moral degradation of others, including their ignorance 
and vice. This prevents us from deriving satisfaction 
from moral evil, even though it should contribute to 
our advantage, as might often happen from the miscon- 
duct of rivals or enemies. It implies also that highest 
species of usefulness which aims at raising the moral 
condition of man, by instructing the ignorant, rescu- 
ing the uuAvary, and reclaiming the vicious. This 
exalted benevolence will therefore also seek to extend 
the light of divine truth to nations that sit in moral 
darkness; and looks anxiously for the period when 
the knowledge of Christianity shall dispel every false 
faith, and put an end to the horrors of superstition. 



Common ways of wounding the feelings of others ? The peace-maker ; 
his influence. Fifth object. What does it forbid ? What does it require 7 
Duty in respect to heathen nations. 



SEC. II. I 



VERACITY. 



87 



III. VERACITY. 

In our own mental impressions relating to veracity, 
we have a striking illustration of the manner in which 
we rely on this class of moral feelings, as instinctive in 
the constitution of the mind. On a certain confidence 
in the veracity of mankind is founded so nuich of the 
knowledge on v/hich we constantly depend, that, 
without it, the whole system of human things would 
go into confusion. It relates to all the intelligence 
which we derive from any other source than our own 
personal observation: — for example, to all that we 
receive through the historian, the traveller, the natu- 
ralist, or the astronomer. Even in regard to the most 
common events of a single day, we often proceed on a 
confidence in the veracity of a great variety of indivi- 
duals. There is, indeed, a natural tendency to truth 
in all men, unless when this principle is overcome by 
some strong selfish purpose, to be answered by depart- 
ing from it ; and there is an equally strong tendency 
to rely on the veracity of others, imtil we have learnt 
certain cautions by our actual experience of mankind. 
Hence children and inexperienced persons are easily 
imposed upon by unfounded statements ; and the 
most practised liar confides in the credulity of those 
whom he attempts to deceive. Deception, indeed, 
would never accomplish its purpose, if it were not 
from the impression that men generally speak truth. 

Is our confidence in the veracity of mankind natural or acquired ? Vv hat 
Ijorlion of our knowledge rests on this basis? Proof that our confidence iu 
the veracity of mankind is instinctivCj not acquired. What gives dereption 
fts power to accomplish its purpose ? 



88 



AFFECTIONS. 



[part I 



It is obvious also, that the mutual confidence which 
men have in each other, both in regard to veracity of 
statement, and to sincerity of intention respecting en- 
gagements, is that which keeps together- the whole 
of civil society. In the transactions of commxcrce it is 
indispensable, and v/ithout it all the relations of civil 
life would go into disorder. When treating of the in- 
tellectual powers in another work, I considered the 
principles which regulate our confidence in human 
testimony ; and it is unnecessary to recur to them in 
this place. Our present object is briefly to analyze the 
elements which are essential to veracity, when we view 
it as a moral emotion, or a branch of individual cha- 
racter. These appear to be three, — correctness in 
ascertaining facts, accuracy in relating them, and 
truth of purpose, or fidelity in the fulfilment of pro- 
mises. 

(1.) An important element of veracity is correctness 
in ascertaining facts. This is essential to the love 
of truth. It requires us to exercise the most anxious 
care respecting every statement which we receive as 
true ; and not to receive it as such, until we are satis- 
fied that the authority on which it is asserted is of a 
nature on which we can fully rely, and that the state- 
ment contains all the facts to which our attention 
ought to be directed. It consequently guards us 
against those limited views, by which party spirit or a 
love of favorite dogmas leads a man to receive the 



What effects \vould follow from entire want of confidence between man 
and man ? How many elements essential to veracity ? What are they 
First element ? What does it require ? Limited views, how occasioned? 



SEC. TI.] 



VERACITY. 



89 



facts which favor a particular opinion, and neglect 
those which are opposed to it. The sound exercise 
of judgment, which is connected with this love of truth, 
differs therefore from the art of ingenious disputation, 
and is often found directly at variance with it. The 
same principle is applicable to the truths which are 
derived as deductions from processes of reasoning. It 
is thus opposed to all sophistical arguments, and par- 
tial or distorted reasonings, by which disputants strive 
to establish particular systems, instead of engaging in 
an honest and simple inquiry after truth. The love 
of truth, therefore, is of equal importance in the recep- 
tion of facts, and in the formation of opinions : and it 
mcludes also a readiness to relinquish our OAvn opin- 
ions, when new facts or arguments are presented to us 
which are calculated to overturn them. The practice 
of this sincere and candid search after truth, on every 
subject to which the mind may be directed, ought to 
be cultivated in early life with the most assiduous care. 
It is a habit of the mind V\4iich must exercise a must 
important influence in the culture both of moral and 
intellectual character. 

In the reception of truth, especialh' on the evidence 
of testimony, we acquire by experience a degree of 
caution, arising from having been sometimes deceived. 
In minds of a certain description, this may be allowed 
to produce a suspicion with regard to all evidence. — in 
other words, scepticism. The want of the necessary 
and proper caution, again, leads to crechility. It is 

Are the most ingerJous disputants alwa3's most successful in discovering 
truth? Importance of the love of truth. When is it peculiarly important 
that it should be cultivated? Caution, how acquired? When excessive 
what is it called ? What is the opposite of scepticism ? 

8^ 



90 



AFFECTipNS. 



[part i. 



the pait of a well-regulated mind to avoid both these 
extremes, by attentively weighing the evidence and 
character of the witnesses, and giving to each circum- 
stance its due influence in the conclusion. 

(2.) Closely connected with the love of truth in re- 
ceiving, is the exercise of veracity in the statement 
of facts, whether derived from our personal observa- 
tion, or received by testimony from others. It consists 
not only in the most scrupulous accuracy of relation, 
but also in giving it in such a manner as to convey a 
correct impression to the hearer. It is consequently 
opposed to all those methods by which either a false 
statement may be made to assume the appearance of 
truth, or one essentially true may be so related as to 
convey a false impression. 

Direct fallacy may consist in the alleged facts being 
absolutely false, or in some of them being so, in facts 
being wanting or kept out of view which would give 
a different import to the whole statement, or in some 
V of the facts being disguised, distorted, or colored, so as 
to alter materially the impression conveyed by them. 
But, besides such actual fallacy, there are various me- 
thods by which a statement literally true may be so 
related as to convey an erroneous impression. Facts 
may be connected together in such a manner as to 
give the appearance of a relation of cause and effect, 
when they are in truth entirely unconnected; or an 
event may be represented as common which has oc- 

Which of these extremes is most common among the young? Second 
element of veracity ? Its nature. To what is it opposed ? Different species 
of fallacy. Can a statement be literally true and yet convey a false impres- 
sion ? 



SEC. TI.J 



VERACITY. 



91 



curred only in one or two instances. The character 
of an individual may be assumed from a single act, 
which, if the truth were known, might be seen to be 
opposed to his real disposition, and accounted for by 
the circumstances in which he happened at the time to 
be placed. Events may be connected together, which 
were entirely disjoined, and conclusions deduced from 
this fictitious connection, which are of course unfound- 
ed. Several of these sources of fallacy may be illus- 
trated by a ludicrous example. — A traveller from the 
continent has represented the venality of the British 
house of commons to be such, that, whenever the 
minister of the crown enters the house, there is a 
general cry for places." It may be true that a cry 
of ''places" has gone round the house at certain 
times, when business was about to commence, or to be 
resumed after an interval, meaning, of course, that 
members were to take their seats. It is very probable, 
that, on some occasion, this may have occurred at the 
moment when the minister entered ; so that the state- 
ment of the traveller might, in point of fact, be strictly • 
true. The erroneous impression which he endeavors 
to convey by it, arises from three sources of fallacy, 
which the anecdote will serve to illustrate, namely, — 
the false meaning he gives to the word employed, 
connecting it with the entrance of the minister as 
cause and etfect, and representing the connection as 
uniform which happened to occur in that particular 
instance. In the same manner it will appear, that a 
false impression may be conveyed respectmg the con- 



Li yhatways? Example illustrating this. Relate the anecdote. The 
•xplanation of it. Was the account of the traveller literally true or false 1 



02 



AFFECTIONS. 



[part I. 



duct of an individual, by assigning motives which are 
entirely imaginary, by connecting things together 
which have no relation, by keeping out of view cir- 
cumstances which would afford an explanation or 
palliation of his conduct, or by attaching to his words 
a different meaning from that which he intended to 
convey by them. The common saying, that there are 
two ways of telling a story, does not therefore refer to 
what is strictly to be called fabrication or falsehood ; 
but to those distortions or colorings of circumstances, 
which, however slight in themselves, have the effect 
of essentially changing the impression made by the 
whole. 

To veracity, under this department, we are also to 
refer the rule, of giving to others an honest and fair 
impression of our vieAvs, motives, and intentions. 
This is sincerity. It is opposed to hypocrisy, that 
unworthy display of human character, in which a 
man disguises his real sentiments, and, on the con- 
trary, professes principles which he neither feels nor 
values, merely for the purpose of promoting his selfish 
interests. Such a character exhibits a singular com- 
bination of moral delinquencies. It is founded on the 
lowest selfishness, and includes a departure from vera- 
city and honesty. But, besides, it implies a know- 
ledge of virtuous principles and of their proper ten- 
dencies, while there is a practical denial of their influ- 
ence. Sincerity is also opposed to flattery, which 
tends to give a man a false impression of our opinion. 

If intended to be received seriously would it have been morally true or 
false? Common proverb. To what does it refer? What is sincerity? To 
what trait of character is it opposed ? Nature of hypocrisy. Considerations 
which aggravate its guilt. Flattery. 



SEC. II.] FRIENDSHIP, LOVE, AND GRATITUDE. 



93 



and of our feelings towards him, and likewise leads 
him to form a false estimate of his own character. It 
is opposed also to simulation or double-dealing, by 
Avhich a man, for certain purposes, professes senti- 
ments towards another which he does not feel, or in- 
tentions which he does not entertain. 

(3.) The third element of veracity is truth of pur- 
pose, or fidelity in the fulfilment of promises. This is 
opposed to actual departure from what was^istinctly 
promised; likewise to. all those evasions by which one 
may convey an impression, or excite the hope, of an 
intention which he does not mean to fulfil, or avoid 
the performance of a real or implied engagement on 
any other ground than inability to perform it. By 
this straight-forward integrity of purpose, an indivi- 
dual gives a clear impression of what he honestly in- 
tends to perform ; and performs it, though circum- 
stances may have occurred to make the fulfilment dis- 
agreeable or even injurious to himself: — he sweareth 
to his own hurt," says a sacred writer,- ^' and change th 
not.'' 



IV. FRIENDSHIP, LOVE, AND GRATITUDE. 

These affections are so nearly allied, that, in this 
slight analysis, they may be taken together. They 
consist in a personal and peculiar attachment to an 

Its nature and elTects 1 Simulation, what ? Third element of veracity ? 
Indirect ways of avoiding the fulfihiient of engagements ? Passage of 
Scripture relating to this subject. What three affection*? are classed together 
under the next head 7 



94 



AFFECTIONS. 



[fart L 



individual, founded either upon some qualities in him- 
self, or some benefits he has conferred on us, or on 
some one in whom we are interested. The feelings 
and conduct to which they give rise correspond with 
those leferred to under the preceding affections, with 
this difference, that, in many instances, they lead to a 
much greater sacrifice of personal interest and com- 
fort, than usually proceeds either from justice or sim- 
ple benevolence. The exertions arising out of them 
are directed, according to the division formerly given, 
to promoting the interest or comfort of the_object of 
our regard, preserving, defending, or advancing his 
reputation, treating his feelings with peculiar tender- 
ness, and his failings with peculiar indulgence, re- 
ceiving his opinions with peculiar favor, and anxiously 
endeavoring to improve his intellectual and moral con- 
dition. This last consideration is justly reckoned the 
highest office of friendship :— it is to be regretted that 
its operation is sometimes impeded by another feeling, 
which leads us to be blind to the failings and deficien- 
cies of those whom we love. In exercising simple 
love and friendship, we rejoice in the advantage and 
happiness of the object, though they should be accom- 
plished by others; but, in exercising gratitude, we are 
not satisfied unless they be effected in some measure 
by ourselves. 



Are they precisely identical? Difference between these affections and 
the preceding. Various modes in which they operate. The highest office 
of frienaship, what? Difference noticed between friendship and gratitude? 



SEC. n.] 



PATRIOTISM. 



96 



V. PATRI0TIS3I. 



Patriotism is, perhaps, not properly to be considered 
as a distinct principle of our nature ; but rather as a 
result of a combination of the other affections. It 
leads us, by every means in our power, to promote the 
peace and the prosperity of our country, and to dis- 
courage, to the utmost of our ability, whatever tends 
to the contrary. Every member of the community 
has something in his power in this respect. He may 
set an example, in his own person, of dutiful and loyal 
respect to the first authority, of strict obedience to the 
laws, and respectful submission to the institutions of 
his country. He may oppose the attempts of factious 
individuals to sow among the ignorant the seeds of 
discontent, tumult, or discord. He may oppose and 
repress attempts to injure the revenue of the state; 
may aid in the preservation of public tranquillity, and 
in the execution of public justice. Finally, he may 
zealously exert himself in increasing the knowledge 
and improving the moral habits of the people, — two of 
the most important means by which the conscientious 
man, in any rank of life, may aid in conferring a high 
and permanent benefit on his country. 



Fifth class of affections. Nature of patriotism? Its effects? Varioui 
ways in Tvhich ever 'ndividual may Dromote the welfare of his country. 



96 



THE DOMESTIC AFFECTIONS. [PART L 



VI. THE DOPvIESTIC AFFECTIONS. 

In this extensive and interesting class are included, 
conjugal affection, the parental feelings, filial reve- 
rence, and the ties of brothers and sisters. These call 
forth, in a still higher degree, the feelings and exer- 
tions already referred to, and a still greater sacrifice 
of personal ease, advantage and comfort, in the anxious 
and diligent discharge of the duties resulting from 
them. In the conjugal relation, they lead us to the 
tenderness, the confidence, the mutual forbearance, 
the iniited exertions of those, who have one hope, one 
interest, and one course of duty. The parental rela- 
tion implies the highest possible degree of that feeling 
which studies the advantage of the object of our care, 
the promotion of his happiness, the improvement of 
his mind, the culture of his aflfections, the formation 
of his habits ; the anxious watching over the deve- 
lopment of his character, both as an intellectual and a 
moral being. The filial relation requires, in an equal 
degree, respect, affection, submission, and confidence ; 
a deference to parental opinion and control ; and an 
impression that those parts of parental management, 
which may often be disagreeable, are guided by a 
sincere desire to promote the highesW interests of the 
object of this affectionate regard. 

Among the feelings of our nature which have less 
of earth in them than heaven," are those which bind 



Sixth class of affections. What are included in the domestic affections? 
What is said of the duties of the conjugal relation 7— — of the parental 
of the filial? 



SEC. II.] 



THE DOMESTIC AFFECTIONS. 



97 



together the domestic circle in the various sympathies, 
affections and duties, which belong to this class of 
tender relations. It is beautiful also to observe, how 
these affections arise out of each other, and how the 
right exercise of them tends to their mutual cultivation. 
The father ought fo consider the son as, of all earthly 
concerns, the highest object of his anxious care ; and 
should watch over the development of his intellectual 
character, and the culture of his moral feelings. lu 
the zealous prosecution of this great purpose, he should 
study to convey a clear impression, that he -is influ- 
enced purely by a feeling of solemn responsibility, and 
an anxious desire to promote the highest interests. 
When parental watchfulness is thus mingled with 
confidence and kindness, the son will naturally learn 
^o estimate alike the conduct itself, and the principles 
from Avhich it sprung, and will look to the faithful 
parent as his safest guide and counsellor, and most 
valued earthly friend. If we extend the same princi- 
ples to the relation between the mother and the daugh- 
ter, they apply with equal or even greater force. In 
the arrangements of society, these are thrown more 
constantly into each other's company ; and that 
watchful superintendence may be still more habitually 
exercised, which, along with the great concern of cul- 
tivating the intellectual and moral being, neglects not 
those graces and delicacies which belong peculiarly to 
the female character. It is not by direct instruction 
alone, that, in such a domestic circle, the highest prin- 

Remarks upon the domestic affections p^eneraily. Duty of a father? The 
nother and daughter. Nature of their connection. Is direct instruction Ih'j 
nly means of doing good in the domestic circle ? 

9 



98 



THE DEFENSIVE AFFECTIONS. [PART 1. 



ciples and best feelings of our nature are cultivated ir 
the nriinds of the young. It is by the actual exhibition 
of the principles themselves, and a uniform recognition 
of their supreme importance ; it is by a parental con- 
duct, steadily manifesting the conviction, that, with 
every proper attention to the acquirements, the accom- 
phshments, and the comforts of life, the chief concern 
of moral beings relates to the life which is to come. 
A domestic society, bound together by these principles, 
can retire, as it were, from the haunts of men, and 
retreat within a sanctuary where the storms of the 
world cannot enter. When thus met together in the 
interchange of mutual affection and mutual confidence, 
they present the anticipation of that period, when, after 
the tumults of life are over, they shall meet again, 
*^no wanderer lost, a family in heaven.'' 



THE DEFENSIVE AFFECTIONS. 

The feelings of jealousy, anger, and resentment, are, 
not less than the other affections, to be considered as 
part of our moral constitution ; and they are calculated 
to answer important purposes, provided they are kept 
under the strict control of reason and the moral prin- 
ciple. Their proper object is primarily a sense of bla- 
mable conduct in others ; and they lead us to use 
proper measures for protecting ourselves against such 
conduct. While we thus disapprove of the character 
and conduct of men in certain circumstances, we are 



What other means are more powerful ? What included under the defeR^ 
sive affections ? Their design and tendency ? 



«?c. n.] 



THE DEFENSIVE AFFECTIONS. 



99 



led, by our feelings of justice and benevolence, to take 
part with the injured and oppressed against the op- 
pressors, or to protect those who are threatened with 
injuries, by measures for defeating the schemes of their 
enemies. A still more refined exercise of this class 
of feelings leads us to seek the reformation of the 
offender, and to convert him from an enemy into a 
friend. 

Resentment, in cases which concern the publiv^ 
peace, naturally leads to the infliction of punishment ; 
the object of which is to prevent similar conduct in 
others, not to gratily personal vengeance. Hence it is 
required to be done in a public manner, with proper 
deliberation and coolness, and with an exact adapta- 
tion of the penalty to the offence, and to the object to 
be attained. The person injured is not likely to do 
• this with the requisite impartiality and candor ; for we 
are apt to feel too deeply injuries, offered to ourselves, 
and not to make the proper allovv^ance for the feelings 
of others, and the circumstances which led to the offence. 
The higher degrees, indeed, of these tendencies usually 
go together, — they, who are most susceptible of offences, 
and most irritable under them, being generally least 
inclined to make allowances for others. Hence, in all 
cases, our disapprobation of personal vengeance, or of 
a man taking the law into his own hands; and our 
perfect sympathy with the protectors of the public 
peace, when they dispassionately investigate a case 
of injury, and calmly adapt their measures to the real 



Their effects in reference to the oppressed? Punishment; its object .' 
How must it be inflicted to answer these purposes ? Why ought injuries to 
be punished by the state rather than by the particular person injured ? 



100 



AFFECTIONS. 



[part I. 



object to be attained by them, thd protection of the 
community. 

The defensive affections are exercised in an miwar- 
ranted manner, when they are allowed to be excited 
by trifling causes; when they are, in degree, dispropor- 
tioned to the otfence, or prolonged in a manner which 
it did not require ; and when they lead, in any mea- 
sure, to retaliation or revenge. The sound exercise 
of them, therefore, is opposed to that irascibility which 
takes fire on trivial occasions, or without due conside- 
ration of the intentions of the agent, or the circum- 
stances in which he was placed ; to a disposition to 
resentment on occasions which do not warrant it ; and, 
on all occasions, to harbqjring the feeling after the 
offence and all its consequences have passed over. 



Before concluding the subject of the afiections, there 
are three points respecting them which remain to be 
mentioned as briefly as possible, — the influence of atten- 
tion, combined with a certain act of imagination, the 
influence of habit, and the estimate of the feeling of 
moral approbation which the exercise of the affections 
is calculated to produce. 

I. In every exercise of the afiections, a most impoi- 
tant influence is produced by attention, aided by a 
certain act of imagination. This consists in directing 



Unwarrantable exercise of the defensive affections. Three points sug- 
gested in respect to the affections. 



SKC. U.] 



INFLUENCE OF ATTENTION. 



101 



the mind intensely and habitually to all the considera- 
tions which ought to guide us in the particular rekitiou 
to which the affection refers. It leads us to place our- 
selves m the situation of others, and, with a kind of 
personal, or almost selfish interest, to enter into their 
wants, their anxieties and their feelings ; and thus, in 
their place, to judge of the emotions and the conduct 
which are due from us to them. Such is the exercise 
of one who wishes to follow the great rule of doing to 
others as he would that they should do to him. He is 
not satisfied with the merely decent discharge of the 
duties which arise from the affections, but studies in- 
tensely the requirements which attach to his particular 
situation, searches out the individuals towards whom 
they ought to be exercised, and enters into their con- 
dition and their feelings with minute and tender inte- 
rest. Many who show no want of friendly and bene- 
volent affection, when an individual case is strongly 
brought before them, are deficient in the kind of exer- 
cise which would lead them, in this manner, to find 
their way to that correct exercise of the affections 
which really belongs to a scene of moral discipline. 
Such an exercise is adapted to every situation in life, and 
tends to guard a man, in his various relations, against 
the hindrances which indolence, self-love, and pure 
inattention are apt to bring in the way of his peculiar 
duties, and of his discharging them with due regard 
to the feelings of others. 

This mental exercise, of extensive application to the 



How does the exercise of the attention operate in influencing the affec- 
tions ? Obeying the golden rule ; what required by it 7 Necessity of active 
effort and sympathy. 

9^ 



102 AFFECTIONS. [PART I. 

benevolent affections, constitutes what is usually called 
sympathy. It is composed of an act of imagination 
and self-love, by which we transfer ourselves, as it 
were, into the situation of other men, and thereby re- 
gulate our conduct towards them. It is however to be 
kept in mind, that the principle of self-love, thus brought 
into action, is the test, not the rule of our conduct. 
This is a point on which there has been much vague 
and useless speculation ; and, from not attending to 
the distinction, some have referred our ideas of bene- 
volence entirely to the principle of selfishness. Such 
discussions are equally unsound and unprofitable, and 
are to be placed on a footing with the speculations of 
the scholastic philosophy, which we now look back 
upon merely as matters of historical curiosity. The 
application of self-love, in the manner which has been 
referred to, is chiefly useful in enabling us fully to 
appreciate the facts of the individual case, as we would 
do if we were personally interested. The rule of our 
conduct is quite distinct from this, and rests on those 
fundamental principles of justice and compassion which 
form a part of our moral constitution. In the practical 
application of them, they are very much aided by the 
moral principle or conscience. 

The man who acts habitually under the influence 
of these rules, learns to question himself rigidly re- 
spectmg the claims and duties which result from his 
moral relations; and the feelings and circumstances 
of those with whom they bl-ing him into contact. 



Of what elements does the author consider sympathy composed ? Useless 
j?peculations on this subject. Character of the man who acts under the 
influence of these rules. 



SEC. II.] 



INFLUEN'CE OF ATTENTION. 



103 



What, (he asks himself,) is the Une of action which 
beloiiofs to me in re2:ard to that individual. — what are 
his feehngs in his present situation ; what are the feel- 
ings and conduct which he expects from me. — and what 
are those which I would expect from him were I in 
his circumstances and he in mine ? It is not a due 
regulation of the affections alone that arises from this 
wholesome state of mental discipline. It is a moral 
culture to the mind itself, which may often be fraught 
with the most important results. For the man who 
exercises it realizes to himself the feelings of poverty, 
the agonies of bereavement, the impressions of the bed 
of death ; and thus, without the pain of suffering, he 
may reap a portion of those important moral benefits 
which suffering is calculated to yield. 

There is another view still to be taken of the advan- 
tages derived from, that mental discipline which con- 
sists in attention to all the relations included under the 
affections. When habitually exercised, it may often 
bring before the mind important circumstances in our 
moral relations, which are apt to make an inadequate 
impression amid the distractions of present things. 
When the parejit. for example, looks around the objects 
of his tender affection, what a new impulse is commu- 
nicated by the thought, that the present life is but the 
infancy of their being: and that his chief and highest 
concern is to train them for immortality. A similar 
impulse must be given to the philanthropist, when he 
considers that the individuals, who share his benevo- 

Three test questions. What effect does the habit of sympathy with the 
sufferings of others produce upon the character ? Another advantage of the 
mental discipline referred to. Example ; the parent. Thoughts connected 
with the sight of his children. 



104 



AFFECTIONS. 



[PAllT L 



lent attentions, are, like himself, passing through a 
scene of discipline to a higher state of existence, where 
they will assume a place corresponding to their rank 
in the scale of moral beings. The refined philanthropy 
thus arising, while it neglects no proper attention to 
the distresses of the present life, will seek chiefly to 
contend with those greater evils which degrade the 
moral nature, and sever the immortal spirit from its 
God. He, who judges upon this extended principle, 
will learn to form a new estimate of the condition of 
man. Amid the pride of wealth and the splendor of 
power, he may mourn over a being lost to every feeling 
of his high destiny ; and, by the death-bed of the 
peasant, amid discomfort and suffering, he may con- 
template with interest a purified spirit rising to immor- 
tality. 

II. Next to the power of attention, we have to notice 
the influence produced upon the afiections by habit. 
This is founded upon a principle of our nature, by which 
a remarkable relation exists between the afiections 
and the actions which arise out of them. The ten- 
dency of all emotions is to become weaker by repeti- 
tion,- or to be less acutely felt the oftener they are ex- 
perienced. The tendency of actions, again, as we 
have seen when treating of the intellectual powers, is 
to become easier by repetition, so that those, which at 
first require close and continued attention, come to be 
performed without efibrt, and almost without con- 
Reflections of the philanthropist. EiFect of such reflections. Proper 
estimate of the condition of men. Second great cause influencing the aflec- 

hons. What is the effect of repetition upon the emotions? upon the 

actions ? 



SEC. II.] 



•INFLUENCE OF HABIT. 



105 



sciousness. Now an affection properly consists of an 
emotion leading to an action ; and the natural progress 
of the mind, in the proper exercise of the affection, is, 
that the emotion becomes less acutely felt, as the action 
becomes easier and more familiar. Thus, a scene of 
wretchedness, or a tale of sorrow, will produce in the 
inexperienced an intensity of emotion not felt by him 
whose life has been devoted to deeds of mercy ; and a 
superficial observer is apt to consider the condition of 
the latter as one of insensibility, produced' by famili- 
arity with scenes of distress. It is, on the contrary, 
that healthy and natural progress of the mind, in 
which the emotion is gradually diminished in force as 
it is followed by its proper actions, that is, as the mere 
hitensity of feeling is exchanged for the habit of active 
benevolence. But that this may take place in the 
sound and healthy manner, the emotion must be 
steadily followed by the action which belongs to it. 
If this be neglected, the harmony of the moral process 
is destroyed, and, as the emotion becomes weakened, 
it is succeeded by cold insensibility or barren selfish- 
ness. 

This is a subject of much importance, and there are 
two conclusions which arise out of it respecting the 
cultivation of the benevolent affections. The one re- 
lates to the bad effects of fictitious scenes of sorrovv^, 
as represented on the stage, or in works of fancy. 
The evil arising from these appears to be that which 
has now been referred to; the emotion is produced 

What IS the effect of repetition upon the afTections ? Example given, illus- 
Irative of this ? Nature of the effect produced hy familiarity with suffering. 
Two conckisions from this truth. Fictitious sufferings. How do they aifect 
the mind ? 



toe 



AFFECTIONS. 



[part I. 



withiout the corresponding action^ and the consequence 
is hkely to be a cold and useless sentimentalism, in- 
stead of a sound cultivation of the benevolent affec- 
tions. The second is, that, in cultivating the benevo- 
lent atfections in the young, we should be careful to 
observe the process so clearly pointed out by the philo- 
sophy of the moral feelings. They should be familiar- 
ized with actual scenes of suffering, but this ought to 
be accompanied by deeds of minute and active kind- 
ness, so as to produce a full and lively impression of 
the wants and feelings of the sufferer. On this ground, 
also, I think we should at first even abstain, in a great 
measure, from giving young persons the cautions they 
will afterwards find so requisite, respecting the charac- 
ters of the objects of their benevolence, and the impo- 
sitions so frequently practised by the poor. Suspicions 
of this kind might tend to interfere with the important 
moral process which ought to be our first object; the 
necessary cautions v/ill afterwards be learned with 
little difficulty. 

The best mode of contending with the evils of pau- 
perism, on the principles of pohtical economy, is a 
problem on which I presume not to enter. But, on the 
principles of moral science, a consideration of the ut- 
most importance should never be forgotten^ — the great 
end to be answered by the varieties of human condition 
in the cultivation of the benevolent affections. Political 
science passes its proper boundary, when it is per- 
mitted in any degree to interfere with this high prin- 

What evil results from this? Rule in respect to the training of the 
young? Effect of cautioning them too much against imposture. Great 
subject in political economy mentioned here? What is one great object c< 
the varieties in the human condition ? 



SEC. ri.] MORAL APPROBATION DUE TO THEM. 107 

ciple; and, on the other hand, it is not to be denied, 
that this important purpose is in a great measure frus- 
trated by many of those institutions, which cut off the 
direct intercourse of tlie prosperous and the wealthy 
with those whom Providence has committed to them, 
in this scene of moral discipline, as the objects of their 
benevolent care. 

III. ' The third point, which remains to be brietiy 
mentioned, is the feeling of moral approbation, or 
rather the impression of merit, Avhich is frequently 
attached to the exercise of the affections. This impor- 
tant subject has been already referred to. Wlien the 
mother, with total disregard to her health and comfort, 
devotes herself to watching over her child, she is not 
influenced by any sense of duty, nor do we a.ttach to 
her conduct the feeling of moral approbation. She 
acts simply upon an impulse within, which she per- 
ceives to be a part of her constitution, and which 
carries her forward with unshrinking firmness in a 
particular course of laborious and anxious service. 
She may, indeed, be sensible that the violation of these 
feelings would expose her to the reprobation of her 
kind ; but she does not imagine that the zealous fulfil- 
ment of them entitles her to any special praise. The 
same principle applies to all the affections. They are 
a part of our moral constitution, intended to bind men 
together by certain offices of justice, friendship, and 
compassion ; and have been well named by a distin- 



One unfavoraMe effect of public charitable institutions ? Third point 
relating to this subject. True moral nature of these affections illustrated by 
the case of the mother. Design of these feelings as implanted by God. 



lOS 



AFFECTIONS. 



[part L 



guislied writer, the voice of God within us.'' They 
serve a purpose in our moral economy analogous to 
that which the appetites answer in our physical sys- 
tem. The appetite of hiniger, for example, ensures a 
regular supply of nourishment, in a manner which 
could never have been provided for by any process of 
reasoning; though an exercise of reason is still appli- 
cable to preserving over it a certain regulation and 
control. In the same manner, the various feelings of 
our moral nature have each a defined purpose to an- 
swer, both in respect to our own mental economy and 
our relations to our fellow-men ; and in the due exer- 
cise of them they ought to be controlled and regulated 
bv the moral principle. The violation of these feel- 
ings, therefore, places man below the level of a moral 
being; but the performance of them does not entitle 
him to assume the claim of merit. He is merely bear- 
ing his part in a certain arrangement, from which he 
is himself to derive benefit, as a being holding a place 
in that system of things which these feelings are in- 
tended to keep together in harmony and order. In 
regard to the great principles of veracity and justice, 
every one perceives this to be true. In all mercantile 
transactions, for example, a character for liigh honor 
and integrity leads not only to respect, but to that 
confidence which is closely connected with prosperity. 
Thej e qualities, indeed, are as essential to a man's own 
interest as they are to his duty to other men; and if he 
does gain an advantage by fraud and deceit, it is only 



To what part of the animal system are they compared ? Example. Row 
IS a violation of these feelings to be regarded in a moral point of \'iew ? — — 
the performance of them ? Example in the case of justice. 



SEC. II.] BTORAL APPROBATION DUE TO THEM. 109 



when he escapes detection, tliat is, while he preserves 
the reputation of the very quaUties which he has vio- 
lated. But tliis truth apphes equally to the atTectiona 
more strictly benevolent. The man who hves in tlie 
liabitnal exercise of a cold and barren selfishness, and 
seeks only his own gratification or interest, has indeed, 
in some sense, his punishment in the contempt and 
aversion with which he is viewed by his fellow-men. 
Much more than this, however, attaches to such a 
character ; he has violated the principles given him 
for his guidance in the social system: he has fallen 
from his sound condition as a moral being : and incurs 
actual guilt in the eye of a righteous governor, whose 
will the order of this lower world is intended to obey. 
But it by no means follov^^s, that the man, who per- 
forms in a certain manner the relations of justice, 
friendship, and compassion, is thereby entitled to claim 
merit in the view of the Almighty Governor of the 
universe. He merely acts his part in the present sys- 
tem of moral economy, for which he has been adapted. 
He is so constituted as to derive satisfaction from the 
exercise of these affections; and. on the other hand, he 
receives an appropriate reward in the reciprocal exer- 
cise of similar affections by other men, and in the ge- 
neral harmony of society which results from they^ 
An extensive culture of the affections, therefore^ may 
go on without the recognition of the moral principle, 
or that state of mind which habitually feels tlie pre- 
sence of the Deity, and desires to have the whole dia- 
ls it the same with the benevolent affections ? How is the man who 
violates them regarded ? Does it follow from this that the fulnimeni of 
them creates a claim to merit ? Can the culture of the affections he inde- 
pendent of moral priiiciplc ? 

10 



no 



AFFECTIONS. 



[part L 



racter in subjection to his will. We are not entitled to 
acknowledge the operation of that great principle, un- 
less when the affections are exercised in circumstances 
which imply a strong and decided sacrifice of self-love 
to the authority of God. This appears to correspond 
with the distinction so strikingly stated in the sacred 
writings — ^'If ye love them which love you. what 
reward have ye ? do not even the publicans the 
same?" — ^'I say unto you, love your enemies, bless 
them that curse you, do good to them that hate you'J 
pray for them which despitefully use you and perse- 
cute you." 

On this branch of the subject it is also to be ob- 
served, that there is a kind of compensating power 
among the affections themselves, by which, in the 
intercourse of men, they act as checks upon each 
other. Thus resentment acts as a check upon hjjus- 
tice ; and the dread of exciting anger in others has 
probably an influence, in preserving the peace and 
harmonies of society, which we often ascribe to a 
higher principle. In regard to the affections more 
strictly benevolent, these are also influenced, in a 
similar manner, by the feeling of disapprobation which 
attends any remarkable departure from their require- 
ments. When we keep in mind, along with this con- 
sideration, the manner in which all men are influ- 
enced*, in one degree or another, by the love of appro- 
bation or regard to character, we perceive in. the moral 
system a beautiful principle of compensation, tending 



Scripture passag-es quoted in this connection ? Compensating power 
among the affections ? Examples ? Similar influence exerted upon th^ 
benevolent affections. 



SEC TI.] 



DUE REGULATION OF THEM. 



Ill 



to promote in it a certain degree of harmony. Tliis is 
remarkably illustrated, for example, in the general 
feelmg of disapprobation which is attached to ingrati- 
tude, and to violation of filial affection or parental 
duty, and even to any marked neglect of the common 
calls of humanity. Along with this we are also to 
keep in mind, that a man is universally considered as 
in the lowest state of human nature, who, in these 
respects, has become regardless of character, — that is, 
of the estimation with which his conduct is viewed by 
his fellow-men. 

In regard to both the affections and the desires, Vv^e 
are farther to remember that deep and extensive influ- 
ence, upon the happiness of the individual himself 
which results from a due regulation of these feelings ; 
the pure mental enjoyment of him whose affections 
are under sound regulation, and whose desires are 
habitually directed to those objects which are in the 
highest degree worthy of being sought after. This 
m.ental tranquillity is also represented to us, in a very 
striking manner, by the infiuence of those dispositions 
which we usually refer to the head of Temper. What 
a constant source of pure enjoyment is a meek and 
placid spirit, the desires of which are moderate and 
under due regulation, which puts upon every thing the 
best construction it will admit of, is slow to take 
offence, seeks no distinction, but views itself with 
humility, and others with candor, benevolence, and 
indulgence. Such a disposition makes the man happy 
in himself, and a source of happiness and peace to all 



Remarkable illustration of this. Effects of a due regulation of the affec 
lions on the happiness. Good temper. Description and effects of it ? 



112 



AFFECTIONS. 



[part I. 



around him. On the other hand, what an unceasing 
source of mental disquiet and turbulence is the oppo- 
site disposition, — ^jealous, envious, and censorious, — 
ready to take offence at trifles, and often -to construe 
incidental occurrences into intended and premeditated 
insults, — prone to put unfavorable constructions upon 
the conduct of others, and thus continually to surround 
itself with imaginary enemies, and imaginary neglects 
and injuries. Such ?3 temper is a continual torment to 
the individual himseil and the cause of disputes and 
jealousies among those with whom he is connected. 
We cannot fail, also, to perceive that the man of ill- 
regulated passions injures his own true interest and 
happiness, as much as he violates his duty to others ; 
and that his course of life is often productive of degra- 
dation, disease, and v/retchedness. In all this we see 
a beautiful example of the wise arrangements of the 
Creator, who, in the structure of our moral nature, has 
connected our own peace and happiness with a state 
of feeling calculated to promote the happiness and 
peace of all around us. We cannot be at a loss to 
conclude what a different scene the world would pre- 
sent, if such feelings were universally cultivated ; and, 
on the other hand, we must observe how much of the 
actual misery that exists in the world arises from de- 
rangement of moral feeling, and the various conse- 
queuQCs which result from it both to individuals and 
communities. We find also, by innumxCrable exam- 
ples, the remarkable influence produced by a due cul- 
tivation of these feelings, in alleviating, both in our- 



Bad temper, its nature and effects ? Effects upon trie character and 
happiness of the individual . Reflections on this suTiject, 



SEC. II.] 



DUE PwEGULATION OF THE3I. 



113 



selves and others, the physical evils which are insepa- 
rable from the present state. It is farther to be re- 
marked, as a fact worthy of the deepest attention, 
that the only distinct information conveyed to ns in 
Scripture, respecting the happiness of the righteous in a 
future state, is, that it will consist chiefly in a perfect 
knowledge of the divine character, and a conformity 
of the soul to the moral perfections of the Deity. It 
doth not yet appear," says the sacred writer, ^'what 
we shall be; but we know that when he shall appear, 
we shall be like him, for we shall see him as he is.*' 

In concluding the whole subject of the affections, I 
have only farther to remark, that the regulated state 
of the moral feelings, which has been the subject of the 
preceding observations, seems to correspond with the 
quality so emphatically described in the sacred Avrit- 
ings under the name of charity. It is there uniformly 
represented as the great test of the mora] condition : 
and we find exposed, in the most striking manner, the 
worthlessness of all endowments which are not accom- 
panied by this regulation of the whole character. We 
cannot, therefore, conclude this subject in a more ap- 
propriate manner, than b}^ a passage in which, by a 
few most powerful expressions, a code of ethical sci- 
ence is laid before us with a clearness and a force, 
which put to nought all human composition : — 

Though I speak with the tongues of men and of an- 
gels, and have not charity, I am become as sounding 
brass or a tinkling cymbal. And though I have the 
gift of prophecy, and understand all m^^steries, and all 



Scripture testimony. Concludicg remarks. Tiie author's opinion of tbf 
passage quoted from Paul. 

10^ 



114 



AFFECTIONS. 



[part 1. 



knowledge ; and though I have all faith, so that I 
could remove mountains, and have not charity, I am 
nothing. And though I bestow all my goods to feed 
the poor, and though I give my body to be burned, 
and have not charity, it profiteth me nothing. Charity 
sufFereth long, and is kind ; charity envieth not ; cha- 
rity vaunteth not itself, is not puffed up, doth not 
behave itself unseemly, seeketh not her own, is not 
easily provoked, thinketh no evil ; rejoiceth not in 
iniquity, but rejoiceth in the truth ; beareth all things, 
beiieveth all things, hopeth all things, endureth all 
things. Charity never faileth : but whether there be 
prophecies, they shall fail ; whether there be tongues, 
they shall cease ; whether there be knowledge, it shall 
vanish aAvay. For we know in part, and we prophesy 
in part. But when that which is perfect is come, then 
that whicli is in part shall be done away. When I 
was a child, I spake as a child, I understood as a child, 
I thought as a child : but when I became a man, I put 
away childish things. For now we see through a 
glass, darkly ; but then face to face : now I know in 
part ; but then shall 1 know even as also I am known. 
And now abideth faith, hope, charity, these three, 
but the greatest of these is charity." 



Repeat the passage. Maaning of the word charity. 



SEC. fll.] 



SELF-LOVK. 



115 



SECTIOiSriII. 
SELF-LOVE. 

There has been some dispute respecting the term 
Self-love, both as to its general propriety, and as to the 
mental feelings which ought to be referred to it. There 
can be no doubt that there is, in our constitution, a 
principle or propensity which leads us to study our 
own interest, gratification, and comfort; and that, in 
many instances, it becomes the ruling principle of the 
character. It is in this sense that I use the term self- 
love, without entering into any discussion regarding 
the strict logical propriety of it. Like the other mental 
feelings, it is to be considered as part of our moral 
constitution, and calculated to answer important pur- 
poses, provided it be kept in its proper place, and do 
not encroach upon the duties and affections which Vv^e 
owe to other men. When thus regulated, it constitutes 
prudence, or a just regard to our o\vn interest, safety, 
and happiness: when it becomes morbid in its exer- 
cise, it degenerates into selfishness. 

A sound and rational self-love ought to lead us to 
seek our own true happiness, and should prove a check 
upon those appetites and passions which interfere with 

What two questions have arisen in respect to self-love ? Nature of the 
principle. Does the author express any opinion in regard to the logical 
propriety of the term ? How is this principle to be regarded in a moral 
point of view? What good trait of character results from it when well 
regulated ? What bad one when it is excessive ? 



116 



SELF-LOVE. 



[part . 



this ; for many of them, it must be allowed, may be 
not less adverse to our own real interest and comfort, 
than they are to our duty to other men. It should 
lead us, therefore, to avoid every thing, not only that 
is opposed to our interest, but that is calculated to 
impair our peace of mind, and that harmony of the 
moral feelings without which there can be no real 
happiness. This includes a due regulation of the 
desires, and a due exercise of the affections, as a moral 
condition which promotes our own welfare and com- 
fort. Self-love, viewed in this manner, appears to be 
placed as a regulating principle among the other 
powers, much inferior indeed to the great principle of 
conscience, so far as regards the moral condition of the 
individual, but calculated to answer iiaaportant pur- 
poses in promoting the harmonies of society. The 
impression, on which its influence rests, appears to be 
simply the comfort and satisfaction which arise to our- 
selves from a certain regulation of the desires, and a 
certain exercise of the affections, while feelings of an 
opposite kincJ follow a different conduct. These sources 
of satisfaction are manifold. We may reckon among 
them the pleasure attached to the exercise of the affec- 
tions themselves, a feature of our moral constitution 
of the most interesting kind, — the true mental peace 
and enjoyment which spring from benevolence, friend- 
ship, meekness, forgiveness, and the whole train of the 
kindly feelings, — the gratitude of those who have expe- 
rienced the effects of our kindness, — the respect and 

Proper infmence of self-love ? Nature and province of self-love ? Its 
elTcct upon the desires ? Its power and influence as a regulator compared 
with conscience. Sources of satisfaction which arise from the due regulation 
of the desires? 



SEC. III.] 



SELF-LOVE. 



117 



approbation of those whose esteem we feel to be vahi- 
ablCj — and the return of similar affections and good 
offices from other men. On the other hand^ we have 
to keep in mind the mental agony and distraction 
which arise from jealousy, envy, hatred, and resent- 
ment, — the sense of shame and disgrace which follow 
a certain line of conduct, — and the distress which 
often arises purely from the contempt and disapproba- 
tion of our fellow-men. Disgrace," says Butler, is 
as much avoided as bodily pain;" we may safely say 
that it is much more avoided, and that it inflicts a 
suffering of a much more severe and permanent nature. 
It must likewise accord with the observation of every 
one, that among the circumstances, which most fre- 
quently injure our peace and impair our comfort, are 
those which ruffle the mind by mortifying our self- 
love. There is also a feeling of dissatisfaction and 
self-reproach which follows any neglect of a due exer- 
cise of the affections, and which, in a well-regulated 
mind, disturbs the mental tranquillity fully as much 
as the disapprobation of other men. It is farther evi- 
dent, that the man of ungoverned passions, and ill- 
regulated affections, impairs his own peace and happi- 
ness as much as he violates his duties to others, for his 
course of life is productive, not only of degradation in 
the eyes of his fellow-men, but often of mental anguish, 
misery, disease, and premature death. There is not, 
perhaps, a state of more intense suffering, than when 
the depraved heart, disappointed of those gratifications 



Sources of pain from allowing the desires to become inordinate ? Butler's 
remark. Double injury done by \Agoverned passions. A condition of in- 
tense suffering. 



118 



SELF-LOVE. 



[part I 



to Avhich it is enslaved, and shut np from the excite- 
ments by which it seeks to escape from the horrors 
/ of reflection, is thrown back upon itself to be its own 
tormentor. To run the risk of such consequences, 
for the gratification of a present appetite or passion, is 
clearly opposed to the dictates of a sound self-love, as 
has been distinctly shown by bishop Butler ; and when, 
in such a case, self-love prevails over an appetite or 
passion, we perceive it operating as a regulating prin- 
ciple in the moral system. It does so, indeed, merely 
by the impression, that a certain regulation of the 
moral feelings is conducive to our own true and pre- 
sent happiness; and thus shows a wonderful power 
of compensation among these feelings, referable entirely 
to this source. But it is quite distinct from the great 
principle of conscience, which directs us to a certain 
line of conduct on the pure and high principle of moral 
duty, apart from all considerations of a personal nature ; 
which leads a man to act upon nobler motives than 
those which result from the most refined self-love, and 
calls for the mortification of all personal feehngs, when 
these interfere, in the smallest degree, with the require- 
ments of duty. This distinction I conceive to be of the 
utmost practical importance; as it shows a principle 
of regulation among the moral, feelings themselves, by 
which a certain exercise of the affections is carried on 
in a manner, which contributes in a high degree to the 
harmonies of society, but which does not convey any 
impression of moral approbation or merit that can be 
applied to the agent. 

What then does self-love require of in respect to the appetites and 
passions ? Is the principle of conscience, or not, entirely disduct from this 1 
Nature of the influence of conscience. 



SEC. III.] SELF-LOVE. 119 

Self-love, then, leads us to consult our own foeiings, 
and to seek directly our own interest and happiness. 
The affections lead us to allow for the feelings, and 
consider the advantage and comfort, of other men ; 
and a certain balance between these principles is es- 
sential to the healthy state of the moral being. It is 
seldom that the affections are likely to acquire an un- 
due influence, but there is great danger of self-love 
degenerating into selfishness, which interferes with the 
duties we owe to others. We have formerly alluded 
to the means, referable to the due exercise of the affec- 
tions, and even to a sound and rational self-love, by 
Avhich this should be in part prevented. When these 
are not sufficient, the appeal is to conscience ; or a 
distinct reference of individual cases is made to the 
great principle of moral rectitude. We find, accord- 
ingly, this principle called into action, when a man 
has become sensible of important defects in his moral 
habits. Thus, we may see a man, who has long given 
Avay to a peevish or irascible disposition, that is, to 
selfish acting upon his own feelings, without due re- 
gard to the feelings of others, setting himself to contend 
with this propensity upon the score of moral duty; 
while another, of a placid disposition, has no need of 
bringing the principle into action for such a purpose.. 
In the same manner, a person who has indulged a cold, 
contracted selfishness may, under the influence of the 
same great principle, perform deeds of benevolence 
and kindness. Thus we perceive that the moral prin- 



Comparative influence of self-love and of the affections. Which is most 
in danger of becoming excessive ? When and how is it accessary to call 
uj tlie aid of conscience ? Hlustration. 



120 SELF-LOVE. [part L 

ciple or sense of duty, when it is made the regulating 
motive of action, is calculated to control self-love, and 
preserve the proper harmony between it and the exer- 
cise of the affections. 

When the principle of self-love becomes deranged 
in its exercise and objects, it leads to those habits by 
which a man seeks his own gratification, in a way 
which interferes with his duties to other men. This 
he may do by an undue piirsuit of any of the desires, 
whether avarice, ambition, love of eminence, or love 
of fame ; and the desire of knowledge itself may be so 
indulged as to assume the same character. Even 
deeds of benevolence and kindness may be performed 
on this principle,^ — as when a man, by such actions, 
seeks only the applause of the public, or the approba- 
tion of certain individuals, from whom, it may be, he 
expects to derive advantage. Hence the value we 
attach, in the exercise of all the affections, to what we 
call disinterested conduct ; to him who does good by 
stealth, or who performs acts of exalted justice, gene- 
rosity, or forbearance, under circumstances which ex- 
clude every idea of a selfish motive, or when self- 
interest and personal feeling are strongly and obviously 
opposed to them. Such conduct commands the cordial 
approbation of all classes of men ; and it is striking to 
remark how, in the highest conception of such a cha- 
racter that fancy can delineate, Ave are met by the 
sublime morality of the sacred writings, impressed 
upon us by the purest of all motives, the imitation of 

Effect of self-love when deranged in its operations ? Desires most com- 
monly pursued in an undue manner? Are deeds of benevolence and kind- 
ness ever performed from an impulse of self-love ? How ? Disinterested 
conduct ? Its moral character and estimation among men. 



SEC. m.] 



SELF-LOVE. 



121 



him who is the giver of all good; — ^Move your ene- 
mies; bless them that curse you; do good to them that 
hate you, and pray for them which despitefully use 
you and persecute you; that ye may be the children 
of your Father which is in heaven : for he maketh his 
sun to rise on the evil and on the good, and sendeth 
rain on the just and on the unjust." — ^'If any man 
will be my disciple," says the same great author of 
Christianity, '"let him deny himself." 

Scripture Drecepts on this subject. 

11 



PART IL 



OP THE WILK 



Will or Simple Volition is that state of mind which 
immediately precedes action : — we will a certain act ; 
and the act follows, unless it be prevented either by 
external restraint, or by physical inability to perform it. 

The actions thus produced arise out of the mental 
emotions formerly treated of, — the desires, and the 
affections. We desire an object, qx we experience one 
of the affections : — the next mental act, according to 
the regular course of a reflecting mind, is proposmg to 
ourselves the question, — shall we gratify the desire, — 
shall we exercise the affection? Then follows the 
process of considering or deliberating. — We perceive, 
perhaps, a variety of considerations or inducements, 
some of which are in favor of gratifying the desire or 
exercising the affection, others opposed to it. We 
therefore proceed to weigh the relative force of these 
opposing motives, with the view of determining which 



Author's definition of Will? Connection between a volition and action? 
Mental procpsss from the desire to the act* 



PART II. J UNIFORMITY OF MORAL CAUSES. 



123 



of them we shall allow to regulate oar decision. We, 
at length, make up our mind on this, and resolve, wc 
shall suppose, to do the act; this is followed by the 
mental condition of willing or simple volition. 

In the chain of mental operations which, in such a 
case, intervene between the desire and the volition, a 
class of agents is brought into view which act upon 
the mind as moral causes of its volitions ; these are 
usually called motives, or principles of action. When 
treating of this subject as a branch of the philosophy 
of the intellectual powers, I endeavored to show the 
grounds on which we believe, that there are facts, 
truths, motives, or moral causes, which have a ten- 
dency thus to influence the determinations of the mind, 
with a uniformity similar to that which we observe in 
the operation of physical causes. For the due opera- 
tion of moral causes, indeed, certain circumstances are 
required in tlie individual on whom they are expected 
to operate, and, without these, they may fail in their 
operation. It is necessary that he should be fully in- 
formed in regard to them as truths addressed to liis 
understanding, that he direct his attention to them 
with suitable intensity, and exercise his reasoning 
powers upon their tendencies, and that he be himself in 
a certain healthy state of moral feeling. In all our in- 
tercourse with mankind, accordingly, we proceed upon 
an absolute confidence in the uniformity of the opera- 



Describe the steps in full. What name is given that class of agents 
which act upon the mind to produce volition? Are moral causes, as well a? 
pliysical causes, really uniform in their operation ? Are they apparen//y as 
uniform and steady as physical causes ? What circumstances are essential 
to their due operation ? Do we confide in the uniformity of moral causes, in 
vitercoursc with mankind ? 



!24 



THE WILL. 



[part II. 



tioii of these causes, provided we are acquainted with 
the moral condition of the individual. We can foretell, 
for example, the respective effects which a tale of dis- 
tress will have upon a cold-hearted miser, and a man 
of active benevolence, with the same confidence with 
which we can predict the different actions of an acid 
upon an alkali and upon a metal ; and there are in- 
dividuals in regard to whose integrity and veracity, in 
any situation in which they can be placed, we have a 
confidence similar to that with which we rely on the 
course of nature. In this manner we gradually ac- 
quire, by experience, a knowledge of mankind ; pre- 
cisely as, by observation or experiment, we acquire a 
knowledge of the operation of physical agents. Thus 
we come to know that one man is absolutely to be 
relied on, in regard to a particular line of conduct in 
given circumstances; and that another is not to be 
relied on, if any thing should come in the way, affect- 
ing his own pleasure or interest. In endeavoring to 
excite various individuals to the same conduct in a 
particular case, we learn, that, in one, we have to 
appeal only to his sense of duty; in another, to his 
love of approbation ; while, on a third, nothing will 
make any impression except what bears upon his in- 
terest or his pleasure. Again, when we find that, in a 
particular individual, certain motives or truths fail of 
the effects which we have observed them to produce 
in others, we endeavor to impress them upon his mind, 
and to rouse his attention to their bearings and tenden- 
cies ; and this we do from the conviction, that these 



Examples illustrative of this. Consequence of this uniformity in respect 
tn our knowledge of mankind. Exam^ples. 



PART II.] PRINCIPLES WHICH REGULATE n\ 



125 



truths have a certain uniform tendency to influence 
the voUtions of a moral being, piwnded he can be in- 
duced seriously to attend to them, and provided he is 
in that moral condition which is required for their 
efficiency. 

In all such cases, which are familiar to every one, 
we recognise, therefore, a uniform relation between 
ceitain moral causes or motives, and the determinations 
of the human mind in willing certain acts. It is no 
objection to this, that men act in very different ways 
with the same motives before them ; for this depends 
upon their own moral condition. When treating of the 
intellectual powers, I alluded to the metaphysical con- 
troversies connected with this subject, and I do not 
mean to recur to them here. Our present object is en- 
tirely of a practical nature, namely, to investigate the 
circumstances w^hich are required for the due operation 
of motives or moral causes, and the manner in which 
the moral feelings may be so deranged, that these fail 
of producing their natural or proper effects. 

Let us, then, suppose an individual deliberating in 
regard to the line of conduct he shall pursue in a par- 
ticular case ; the circumstances or impressions which 
are calculated to act upon him as moral causes in de- 
termining his volition, that is, in deciding his conduct, 
are chiefly the following. (1.) Self-love, w^hich 
prompts him to seek his owm ease, interest, or gratifi- 
cation. (2.) Certain affections which lead him to take 

Apparent objection. Is this subject well settled amon^ metaphysicians 1 
Au^or's object in bringing forward the subject here. Case supposed. 
Moral causes operating upon a man, to produce volition^ — how many enume 
rated? V hat are they ? 

11^ 



126 



THE WILL. 



[part n. 



into view duties which he owes to other men ; such as 
justice^ benevolence, &c. (3.) The impression of mo- 
ral rectitude or moral responsibility. This is derived 
from the great principle of conscience, aided by the 
truths of religious belief. (4.) We ought to add rea- 
son or judgment, which leads him to perceive certain 
tendencies of actions, apart from their moral aspect. 
Now, in deciding on his conduct in any particular 
instance, one man makes every thing bend to his own 
interest or pleasure, with little regard to the interests 
of others ; unless in so far as the absolute requirements 
of justice are concerned, the infringement of which 
might expose him to loss of reputation, or even to punish- 
ment. Another surrenders a certain portion of his per- 
sonal gratification to the advantage or comfort of others, 
purely as an exercise of feeling from which he expe- 
riences satisfaction; influenced, also, probably, in some 
measure, by a regard to character, or the love of appro- 
bation. In such a man, it becomes, in individual in- 
stances, a matter of calculation, what degree of ihe 
sacrifice of personal ease, interest, or feeling, is to be 
made to this principle of action. A third contemplates 
the case purely as one of duty or moral responsibility, 
and acts upon this principle, though it may involve a 
degree of personal exertion, or a sacrifice of personal 
feeling, in itself disagreeable or even injurious to him; 
that is, though the strongest personal motives would 
lead to a different cpnduct. Let the case, again, refer 
to one of the desires, bearing no immediate relation to 
the interests of other men. One man goes directly into 



Do all decide alike in respect to these claims ? First kind of decision 
mentioned 7 Second kind ? Third kind ? 



PART II.] PRINCIPLES WHICH REGULATE IT. 



127 



the gratification of it, without any consideration. Ano- 
ther, who feels the same desire, considers the influence 
which the indulgence would be likely to have on his 
health, interest, or reputation. This maybe considered 
as simply an exercise of judgment, combined with a 
certain operation of self-love. A third views the aspect 
of the deed purely as a question of moral responsibility, 
and, if he sees cause, decides against it on this ground 
alone : though he should perceive that it might be 
gratified without any danger to his health, interest, or 
reputation, or even that it might contribute to his ad- 
vantage. 

We have thus presented to us three characters : one 
who acts upon the high and pure ground of moral 
principle ; one who acts from motives of a more con- 
tracted and personal nature, though, in certain instances, 
his conduct may be the same; and one who goes 
straight forward to the gratification of a ruling desire 
or governing propensit}?-, without attending to motives 
of either class. The first is a uniform character, on 
"vhose conduct we depend in any given circumstances, 
with a confidence similar to that with which we rely 
on the operation of physical agents. For we know the 
uniform tendencies of the motives or moral causes by 
which he is habitually influenced, and Ave know his 
moral temperament. We have nearly the same kind 
of knowledge respecting him, which we have of the 
tendencies of chemical agents towards each other, and 
which enables us with perfect confidence to foretell 



Various decisions in respect to the gratification of the desires ? The 
three characters thus presented ? Confidence to be placed in the lirst ; and 



128 



THE WILL. 



[part IL 



their actions. The third has also a uniformity of con- 
duct, though of a very different kind. We know, hke- 
wise, his moral condition, and, to predict his conduct, 
we require only to learn the particular inducements or 
temptations to which he is exposed in a given instance. 
The second we cannot rely or calculate upon : for we 
have not the means of tracing the conflicting views by 
which he maybe influenced in a particular case, or the 
principle on Avhich he may ultimately decide between 
them. They involve the strength of the inclination, 
and the degree of power exerted over it by the class 
of personal or selfish motives by which he is influenced. 
In regard to various instances of ill-regulated desire, 
we must add his hope of evading detection, as on this 
depends, in a great measure, the kind of evils dreaded 
by him in reference to the indulgence. These taken 
together imply a complicated moral calculation, of 
v/hich it is impossible for another man to trace the 
result. 

There cannot be an inquiry of more intense interest 
than to investigate the causes in which originate the 
differences among these three characters ; or, in other 
words, the principles on which we can explain the 
fact, that the will of individuals may be influenced so 
differently with the same mxOtives before them. These 
appear to be referable to three heads, — Knov/ledge, — 
Attention, — and Moral Habits. 

I. A primary and essential element, in the due regu- 

Is the conduct of the third uniform or not ? How ? Degree of confidence 
to be placed in the second? Various influences acting upon such a mind? 
Interesting inquiry here proposed ? Sources of influence in respect to the 
formation of character ? 



PART II.] 



INFLUENCE OF KNOWLEDGE. 



129 



lation of the will, is a correct knowledge of the truths 
and motives which tend to influence its determinations. 
The highest class of these comprehends the truths of 
religious belief, — a series of moral causes, the tendencies 
of which are of the most important kind, and calculated 
to exert a uniform power over every man who surren- 
ders himself to their guidance. For this purpose, a 
correct knowledge of them is required : and, to all who 
have this knowledge within their reach, the careful 
acquisition involves a point of the deepest moral respon- 
sibility. The sacred writers speak in the strongest 
terms of the guilt attached to voluntary ignorance : 
and this must be obvious to every one who considers 
the clearness with which the highest truths are dis- 
closed, and the incontrovertible evidence by which 
they are supported. This applies equally to the prin- 
ciples both of natural and of revealed religion. The 
important truths of natural religion are partly matters 
of the most simple induction from the phenomena of 
nature v/hich are continually before us ; and partly 
impressed upon our own moral constitution in the 
clearest and most forcible manner. From the planet 
revolving in its a,ppointed orbit, to the economy of the 
insect on which we tread, all nature demonstrates, with 
a power which we cannot put away from us, the great 
incomprehensible One, a being of boundless perfections 
and infinite wisdom. In regard tohis%noral attributes, 
also, he has not left himself without a witness : for a 
sense of these he has impressed upon us in tlie clearest 

What kind of knowledge is necessary for a due regulation of the will ? 
When is ignorance guilty? Are the gi'eat truths of religion clearly or ob« 
tcuisly presented to men? Evidence of the heing of God. 



130 



THE WILL. 



[part 11 



manner in that wondrous part of our constitutloUj the 
moral principle or conscience. From these two sources 
may be derived a knowledge of the character of the 
Deity, and of our relation to him as moral beings ; and 
the man is left entirely without excuse who fails to 
direct to them his most earnest attentioUj and to make 
the impressions derived from them the habitual rule 
of his volitions^ and the guide of his whole character. 

He hath the rule of right within," says Butler ; all 
that is wanting is, that he honestly attend to it." 

Similar observations apply with equal or greater 
force to the truths of revealed religion^ These are 
supported by a weight of miraculous evidence, and are 
transmitted to us by a chain of testimony, carrying 
absolute conviction to the mind of every candid in- 
quirer. They are farther confirmed by a probability, 
and a force of internal evidence, which fix themselves 
upon the moral feelings of every sound understanding 
with a power which is irresistible. The whole is ad- 
^'dressed to us as rational beings ; it is pressed upon our 
attention as creatures destined for another state of ex- 
istence ; and the duty is imposed upon every individual 
seriously to examine and to consider. Every man i& 
in the liighest degree responsible for the care with 
which he has informed himself of these evidences, and 
for the attention with which he has given to every 
part of them it^ due weight in the solemn inquiry. 
He is farther responsible for the influence of previously 
formed prejudice, or any degree of that vitiated state 
of his moral feelings, which prevents him from ap- 



Evidence of his moral attributes. Degree of evidence for revealed religion 1 
How and why are men responsible for their belief on ihest subjects 7 



PART n.] 



INFLUENCE OF KNOWLEDGE. 



proaching the subject with the simplicity of a mind 
which is seriously desirous of the truth. From the 
want of these essential elements of character, it may 
very often happen, that a man may fancy he has 
formed his opinions after much examination, while the 
result of his prejudiced or frivolous inquiry has been 
only to fix him in dehision and falsehood. Among the 
singular sophistries, indeed, by which some men shut 
their minds against inquiries of the highest import, is 
a kind of impression, not perhaps distinctly avov/ed in 
words, but clearly recognised in practice, that these 
subjects of belief are in a great measure matters of 
opinion, instead of being felt to rest upon the basis 
of immutable and eternal truth. Can any thing be 
more striking than the manner in which a late distin- 
guished poet expresses himself on the subject of a 
future life, — as if this truth were a mere opinion which 
could be taken up or laid down at pleasure, to suit the 
taste of the individual inquirer: — ''Of the two, 1 
should think the long sleep better than the agonized 
vigil. But men, miserable as they are, cling so to any 
thing like life, that they probably would prefer damna- 
tion to quiet. Besides, they think themselves so im- 
portant in the creation, that nothing less can satisfy 
their pride, — the insects Such is the frivolous 

sophistry by which one, who holds a high rank in the 
literature of his country, could put away from him the 
most momentous inquiry that can engage the attention 
of a rational being. 

* Byron's Letters. Moore's Life, Vol. II. p. 531. 



Common error on this subject. Views of the doctrine of a future life by 
I celebrated poet. 



132 



THE WILL, 



[part 11. 



II. Next to the acquisition of knowledge, and the 
formation of opinions, calculated to act upon us as 
moral beings, is the important rule of habitually at- 
tending to them, so as to bring their influence to bear 
upon our volitions. He, who honestly attends to what 
is passing within, will perceive that this is a voluntary 
exercise of his thinking and reasoning faculties. When 
a particular desire is present to hrs mmd, he has the 
power to act upon the first impulse, or upon a very 
partial and limited, perhaps a distorted, view of the 
considerations and motives by which he ought to be 
influenced ; and he has the poYv''er to suspend acting, 
and direct his attention deliberately and fully to the 
facts and principles which are calculated to guide his 
determination. This is the first great step in that re- 
markable chain of sequences which belong to the regu- 
lation of the will. It is what every one is conscious 
of; and, putting aside all those metaphysical subtleties 
in which the subject has been involved, this constitutes 
man a free and responsible agent. In this important 
process, the first mental state is a certain movement 
of one of the desires or one of the affections ; to pre- 
vent circumlocution, we may use the terai Inclination 
as including both. The second is a reference of the 
inclination to the moral causes or motives which more 
peculiarly apply to it, especially the indications of con- 
science, and the principles of moral rectitude. If these 
be found to harmonize with the inclination, volition 

Second source of influence in the formation of character? Is attention in 
any degree a voluntary state of mmd ? How? View taken ])y th.e author 
of the power of the attention in regulating the will? What term is used t:. 
include the desires and the affections ? The two great steps in the process 
of moral actiQii ? 



PART IL] 



INFLUENCE OF ATTENTION. 



133 



and action follow, with the full concurrence of every 
moral feelmg. If the inclination be condemned by 
these, it is, in a v/ell-regulated mind, instantly dis- 
missed, and the healthy condition of the moral being is 
preserved. But this voluntary and most important 
mental process may be neglected ; the inchnation may 
be suffered to engross the mind and occupy fully the 
attention ; the power may not be exercised of direct- 
ing it to moral causes and motives, and of comparing 
with them the inclination which is present. The con- 
sequence may be, that the man runs heedlessly into 
volition and action, from which the due exercise of 
this process of the mind might have preserved him. 

But a third condition may take place which presents 
a subject of the highest interest. The moral causes 
may be so far attended to, as to prevent the inclination 
from being followed by action ; while the inclination 
is still cherished, and the mind is allowed to dwell, 
with a certain feehng of regret, on the object which it 
had been obliged to deny itself. Though the actual 
deed be thus prevented, the harmony of the moral 
feelings is destroyed ; and that mental condition is 
lost which is strictly to be called purity of heart. For 
this consists in the desires and affections, as well as the 
conduct, being in strict subjection to the indications 
of conscience and the principles of moral rectitude. 
The inclination, thus cherished, gradually acquires 
greater ascendency over the moral feelings ; at each 
succeeding contest, it more and more occupies the 



Result, in 3 well-rej^ulated mind ? Process in a mind not regelated ? 
Third condition descrihe^l. Consequences? EtTecl on the moral feelings? 
« on the future character? 

12 



134 



THE WILL. 



[part IL 



mind ; the attention is less and less directed to the 
moral truths and motives which are opposed to it; the 
inclination at length acquires the predominance, and 
is followed by volition. This is what we mean by a 
man being carried away by passion, in opposition to 
his moral conviction : for passion consists in a desire 
or an affection which has been allowed to engross the 
mind, until it gradually overpowers the moral causes 
which are calculated to counteract its influence. Now 
in the whole of this course each single movement of 
the mind is felt to be entirely voluntary. From that 
step, which constitutes the first departure from moral 
purity, the process consists in a desire being cherished 
which the moral feelings condemn; while, at each 
succeeding step, the influence of these feelings is gra- 
dually weakened, and finally destroyed. Such is the 
economy of the human heart, and such the chain of 
sequences to be traced in the moral history of every 
man, who, with a conviction upon his mind of what 
is right, has followed the downward course which gradu- 
ally led him astray from virtue. When we trace such 
a process backwards in a philosophical point of view, 
the question still recurs, what was the first step, oi 
that by which the mind was led into the course which 
thus terminated in favor of vice. In the w^onderful 
chain of sequences, which has been established in the 
mental constitution, it would appear, that a very 
slight movement only is required for deranging the 
delicate harmony which ought to exist among the 

Effects of this indulgence on the power of the inclinations ? Dominion 
&f the passions, what and how acquired ? Are the movements of the mind 
voluntary in these moral processes ? Interesting question in relation to this 
process 7 



PART II.] 



INFLUENCE OF ATTENTION. 



135 



moral feelings; but this ea'2h individual feels to be 
entiiely voluntary. It may consist in a desire being 
cherished which the moral feelings disapprove: and, 
though the effect at first may be small, a morbid influ- 
ence has arisen, which gains strength by continuance, 
and at last acquires the power of a moral habit. The 
more the desire is cherished, the less is the attention 
directed to the considerations or moral causes by 
which it might be counteracted. In this manner, ac- 
cording to the mental economy, these causes gradually 
lose their power over the volitions or determinations 
of the mind; and, at a certain period of this progress, 
the judgment itself comes to be changed respecting the 
moral aspect of the deed. 

There is still another mental condition to be men- 
tioned in connection with this subject; in which the 
harmony of the moral feelings may be destroyed, 
without the action following. This takes place when 
the inclhiation is cherished, as in the former case, in 
opposition to the indications of conscience ; while the 
action is opposed by some inferior motives, as a regard 
to reputation or interest. The deed may thus be pre- 
vented, and the interests of society may benefit by the 
difference; but so far as regards the individual him- 
self, the disruption of moral harmony is the same ; and 
his moral aspect must be similar in the eye of the Al- 
mighty One, Avho regards not the outward appearance 
alone, but who looketh into the heart. In this manner it 
may very often happen, that strong inducements to vice 

Nature of the first step in sin? What are the effects of yielding to such 
desires? Can there be an indulgence of the sinful inclinations without 
action? What may prevent action in such a case ? Is there any advantage 
in such external restraint ? What ? 



136 



THE WILL. 



[part II 



are resisted from motives referring merely to health, ot 
to character. But this is not to overcome temptation ; 
it is only to balance one selfish feeling against another. 

III. From the state of mind which has now been 
referred to, there gradually results a Moral Habit 
This is a mental condition, in which a desire or an 
affection, repeatedly acted upon, is, after each repeti- 
tion, acted upon with less and less effort; — and, on the 
other hand, a truth or moral principle, which has been 
repeatedly passed over without adequate attention, 
after every such act makes less and less impression, 
until at length it ceases to exert any influence over the 
moral feelings or the conduct. I had occasion to illus- 
trate this remarkable principle in another point of 
view, when treating of the connection between the 
emotions of sympathy and benevolence, and the con- 
duct which naturally arises gut of them. This con- 
duct at first may require a certain effort, and is accom- 
panied by a strong feeling of the emotion which leads 
to it. But after each repetition, the acts go on with 
less feeling of the emotion, and less reference to the 
principle from which they spring; while there is pro- 
gressively forming the habit of active benevolence. It 
is precisely the same with habits of vice. At first a 
deed requires an effort, and a powerful contest with 
moral principles ; and it is speedily followed by that 
feeling of regret, to which superficial observers give 
the name of repentance. This is the voice of con- 



The moral character of mere external restraint. Moral habit ; its nature 1 
How is it that ha'yit confirms a bad or good character ? How are habits of 
vice Ibrmcd ? What effect is produced on conscience by disregarding it ? 



PART II.] 



INFLUENCE OF HABIT. 



137 



science ; but its power is more and more diminished 
after ea:h repetition of the deed: — even the judgment 
becomes perverted respecting the first great principles 
of moral rectitude ; and acts, which at first occasioned 
a violent conflict, are gone into without remorse, or 
almost without perception of their moral aspect. A 
man in this situation may still retain the knowledge 
of truths and principles, which at one time exerted an 
influence over his conduct; but they are now matters 
of m.emory alone. Their power as moral causes is 
gone, and even the judgment is altered respecting their 
moral tendencies. He views them now perhaps as 
the superstitions of the vulgar, or the prejudices of a 
contracted education ; and rejoices, it may be, in his 
emancipation from their authority. He knows not, 
for he has not the moral perception now to know, that 
he has been pursuing a downward course, and that 
the issue, on which he congratulates himself, consists 
in his last degradation as a moral being. Even in this 
state of moral destitution, indeed, the same warning 
principle may still raise its voice, unheeded but not 
subdued, repelled as an enemy, not admitted as a 
friendly monitor and guide. ^- 1 have not the smallest 
influence over lord Byron in this particular,*' writes 
one of the chosen friends of that distinguished indivi- 
dual ; ^'if I had, I certainl}^ should employ it to era- 
dicate from his great mind the delusions of Chris- 
tianity, which, in spite of his reason, seem perpetually 
to recur, agd to lay in ambush for the hours of sick- 



Is the man whose conscience is seared ignorant of duty? How do his 
former correct principles appear to him ? Can this principle often be en- 
tirely eradicated 7 Lord Byron's case ? 
12^ ' 



138 



THE WILL. 



[part n. 



ness and distress." It would be interesting to know 
what the particular impressions were, from which this 
sympathizing friend was anxious to rescue the poet 
They were probably the suggestions of a power with- 
m, which, in certain seasons of reflection, compelled 
his attention in spite of his attempts to reason against 
it, pleading with authority for a present Deity, and a 
life to come. 

The principle of habit, therefore, holds a most im- 
portant place in the moral condition of every man ; 
and it applies equally to any species of conduct, or 
any train of mental operations, which, by frequent 
repetition, have become so familiar, as not to be ac- 
companied by a recognition of the principles in which 
they originated. In this manner good habits are con- 
tinned without any immediate sense of the right prin- 
ciples by which they were formed; but they arose 
from a frequent and uniform acting upon these princi- 
ples, and on this is founded the moral approbation 
which we attach to habits of this description. In the 
same manner, habits of vice, and habits of inattention 
to any class of duties, are perpetuated without a sense 
of the principles and affections which they violate ; 
but this arose from a frequent violation of these prin- 
ciples, and a frequent repulsion of these affections, 
until they gradually lost their power over the conduct; 
and in this consists the guilt of habits. Thus one 
person acquires habits of benevolence, veracity, and 
kindness, — of minute attention to his varioi:^ duties, — 



Object of the quotation ? How extensive is the influence of habit? Are 
the principles on which habits are formed always present to the mind while 
*lie habjts continue? 



PART II] 



INFLUENCE OF HAEIT. 



139 



of correct mental discipline, — and active direction of 
his thoughts to all those objects of attention which 
ought to engage a well-regulated mind ; another 
sinks into habits of listless vacuity or frivolity of 
mind, — of vicious indulgence and contracted selfish- 
ness, — of neglect of hnportant duties, disregard to the 
feelings of others,* and total indifference to all those 
considerations and pursuits which claim the highest 
regard of every responsible being; and the striking 
fact is^ that, after a certain period, all this may go on 
without a feeling that aught is wrong either in the 
moral condition, or tiffe state of mental discipline : such 
is the power of a moral habit. 

The important truth, therefore, is deserving of the 
deepest and most habitual attention, that character 
consists in a great measure in habits, and that habits 
arise out of individual actions and individual opera- 
tions of the mind. Hence the importance of carefully 
weighing every action of our lives, and every train of 
thought that we encourage in our minds ; for we never 
can determine the effect of a single act, or a single 
mental process, in giving that influence to the charac- 
ter, or to the moral condition, the result of which shall 
be decisive and permanent. In the whole history of 
habits, indeed, we see a wondrous display of that re- 
markable order of sequences which has been esta- 
blished in our m.ental constitution, and by which evevy 
man becomes, in an important sense, the master of his 
own moral destiny. For each act of virtue tends 
to make him more virtuous; and each act of vice 



Examples ? Connection between habit and character ? Influence of single 
acts ? The tendency of each act of virtue ? 



140 



THE V/ILL. 



[part II. 



gives new strength to an influence within, which will 
certainly render him more and more vicious. 

These considerations have a practical tendency of 
the utmost interest. In subduing habits of an injuri- 
ous character, the laws of mental sequences, which 
have now been referred to, must be carefully acted 
upon. When the judgment, influenced by the indica- 
tions of conscience, is convinced of the injurious nature 
of the habit, the attention must be steadily and habi- 
tually directed to the truths which produced this im- 
pression. There will thus arise desire to be delivered 
from the habit, or, in other wSrds, to cultivate the 
course of action that is opposed to it. This desire, 
being cherished in the mind, is then made to bear 
upon every individual case in which a propensity is 
felt towards particular actions, or particular mental 
processes, referable to the habit. The new inclination 
is at first acted upon with an effort, but, after every 
instance of success, less effort is required, until at 
length the new course of action is confirmed, and over- 
powers the habit to which it was opposed. But that 
this result may take place, it is necessary that the 
mental process be followed, in the manner distinctly 
indicated by the philosophy of the moral feelings ; for 
if this is not attended to, ihe expected effect may not 
follow, even under circumstances which appear, at 
first sight, most likely to produce it. On this principle 
we are to explain the fact, that bad habits may be 
long suspended by some powerful extrinsic influence, 



Of each act of vice ? What practical lessons are to be learned from these 
views? Process by which ba4 habits are corrected? May bad habits be 
suspended without being broken ? 



PART II.] MEANS OF REGULATING IT. 141 

while they are in no degree broken. Thus, a pc^rson 
addicted to intemperance will bind himself by an oath 
to abstain, for a certain time, from intoxicating liquors. 
In an instance which has been related to me, an indi- 
vidual mider this process observed the most rigid so- 
briety for five years, but was found in a state of intoxi- 
cation the very day after the period of abstinence ex- 
pired. In such a case, the habit is suspended by the 
mere influence of the oath ; but the desire continues 
unsubdued, and resumes all its former power whenever 
this artificial restraint is withdrawn. The effect is the 
same as if the man had been in confinement during 
the period, or had been kept from his favorite indul- 
gence by some other restraint entirely of an external 
kind ; the gratification was prevented, but his moral 
nature continued unchanged. ^ 

These principles may be confidently stated as facts 
in the moral constitution of man, challenging the assent 
( f every candid observer of human nature. Several 
conclusions seem to arise out of them, of the utmost 
practical importance. We perceive, in the first place, 
a state which the mind may attain, in which there is 
such a disruption of its moral harmony, that no power 
appears in the mind itself capable of restoring it to a 
healthy condition. This important fact in the philo- 
sophy of human nature has been clearly recognised, 
from the earliest ages, on the mere principles of human 
science. It is distinctly stated by Aristotle in his Nico- 

Example given. A fact illustrative of this. Remarks upon the case. 
What is meant by the phrase "challenging the assent?" First practical 
conclusion drawn from these principles. Hopeless conditi(?n in which a 
mind may be placed 7 Has this fact always been admitted ? 



1 



142 THE WILL. ' [part 11 

machean Ethics, where he draws a striking comparison 
between a man who, being jirst misled by sophistical 
reasonings, has gone into a hfe of vokiptuoiisness 
mider an impression that he was doing no wrong, and 
one who has followed the same course in opposition to 
his own moral convictions. The former he contends 
might be reclaimed by argmnent; but the latter he 
ccnsiders as incurable. In such a state of mind, there- 
fore, it follows hj an induction which cannot be con- 
troverted, either that the evil is irremediable and hope- 
less, or that we must look for a power from without 
the mind which may afford an adequate remedy. We 
are thus led to perceive the adaptation and the proba- 
bility of the provisions of Christianity, where an in- 
fluence is indeed disclosed to us, capable of restoring 
the harmony which has been lost, and raising man 
anev/ to his place as a moral being. We cannot 
hesitate to believe that the Power, who fra.med the 
wondrous fabric, may thus hold intercourse with it, 
and redeem it from disorder and ruin. On the con- 
trary, it accords with the highest conceptions we can 
form of the benevolence of the Deity, that he should 
thus look upon his creatures in their hour of need: and 
the system disclosing such communication appears, 
upon every principle of sound philosophy, to be one 
of harmony, consistency, and truth. The subject, 
therefore, leads our attention to that inward change, 
so often the scoff of the profane, but to which so pro- 
minent a place is assigned in the sacred writings, in 

What ancient author is appealed to in proof? Substance of the view 
quoted from Aristotle ? What is the provision made in Christianity for a 
mind thus hoj^^lessly lost ? Is there any philosophical presumption agumst 
such a divinn influence ? 



PART n.] 



MEANS OF REGULATING IT. 



J 43 



which a man is said to be created anew by a power 
from heaven, and elevated in his whole views and 
feelings as a moral being. Sound philosophy teaches 
us, that there is a state in which nothing less than 
such a complete transformation can restore tlv man to 
a healthy moral condition, and that, for producing it, 
nothing will avail but an influence from without the 
mind, — a might and a power from the same Almighty 
One who originally framed it. Philosophy teaches, in 
the clearest manner, that a portion of mankind require 
such a transformation ; Christianity informs us that it 
is required by all. When the inductions of science 
and the dictates of revelation harmonize to this extent, 
who shall dare to assert that the latter are not truth ? 
Who, that places himself in the presence of a being of 
infinite purity, Avill say, he requires not such a change ; 
or that, for the production of it, he needs no agency, 
beyond the resources of his own mind 7 If none be 
found who is entitled to believe he forms the excep- 
tion^ we are forced into the acknowledgment of the 
truth, so powerfully impressed upon us in the sacred 
writings, that, in the eye of the Almighty One, no man 
in himself is righteous ; and that his own power avails 
not for restoring him to a state of moral purity. 

From the whole of this inquiry, we see, in the second 
place, the deep influence of habits, and the fearful 
power which they may acquire over the whole moral 
system ; considerations of the highest practical interest 

What does sound philosophy teach in respect to the necessity of such a 
change? Does Christianity teach that this change is necessary- for all? 
Can any think he himself is an exception? Second practical inference from 
the principles discussed in tliis chapter ? 



144 



THE WILL. 



[part n. 



to those who would prevent the formation of habits of 
an injurious nature, or who, feeUng their influence, 
strive to be delivered from them. There is indeed a 
pomt in this downward course, where the habit has 
acquired undisputed power, and the whole moral feel- 
ings yield to it unresisting submission. Peace may- 
then be within, but that peace is the stillness of death ; 
and, unless a voice from heaven shall wake the dead, 
the moral being is lost. But, in the progress towards 
this fearful issue, there may be a tumult, and a contest, 
and a strife, and the voice of conscience may still com- 
mand a certain attention to its warnings. While there 
are these indications of life, there is yet hope of the 
man; but on each moment is now suspended his moral 
existence. Let him retire from the influence of exter- 
nal things; and listen to that voice within, which, 
thoi^gh often unheeded, still pleads for God. Let him 
call to aid those high truths which relate to the pre- 
sence and inspection of this being of infinite purity, 
and the solemnities of a life which is to come. Above 
all, let him look up in humble supplication to that pure 
and holy One, v/ho is the witness of this warfare, 
who will regard it with compassion, and impart his 
powerful aid. But let him not presumptuously rely 
on this aid, as if the victory were already secured. 
Th contest is but begun ; and there must be a con- 
tinued effort, and unceasing watchfulness, a habitual 
direction of the attention to those truths which, as 
moral causes, are calculated to act upon the mind, — 

Slate of the mind when bad habits have acquired complete dominion? 
How can we best contend against sin while the habit is not fully formed ? 
Sources of aid ? Is the mind to rest exclusiYely on the expectation of divine 
aid, without personal effort ? 



PART IT. J 



MEANS OF REGULATING IT. 



145 



and a constant reliance upon the power from on high 
which is felt to be real and indispensable. With all 
this provision, his progress may be slow ; for the op- 
posing principle, and the influence of established moral 
habits, may be felt contending for their former domi- 
nion; but by each advantage that is achieved over 
tliem, their power will be broken and finally destroyed. 
Now in all this contest towards the purity of the moral 
being, each step is no less a process of the mind itself 
than the downward course by which it was preceded. 
It consists in a surrender of the will to the suggestions 
of conscience, and a habitual direction of the attention 
to those truths which are calculated to act u.pon the 
moral volitions. In this course, tlie man feels that he 
is authorized to look for a might and an influence not 
his own. This is no imaginary or m3^sterious impres- 
sion, which one may fancy that he feels, and then 
pass on contented with the vision ; but a power which 
acts through the healthy operations of his own mind ; 
it is in his own earnest exertions, as a rational being, 
to regulate these operations, that he is encouraged to 
expect its communication ; and it is in feeling these 
assuming the characters of moral health, that he has 
the proof of its actual presence. 

And where is the improbability that the pure and 
holy One, who framed the wondrous moral being, muy 
thus hold intercourse with it, and impart an influence 
in its hour of deepest need. According to the utmost 
of our conceptions, it is the highest of his works, for 



Can we expect Yerj rapid progress in eradicating sinful habits? Natui-e 
of the process by which the mind returns to virtue ? Is there any natura. 
improbability that God m^iy hold an intercourse with the soul of man ? 

13 



146 



THE WILL. 



[part 11. 



he has endowed it with the power of rising to the con- 
templation of himself, and with the capacity of aspiring 
to the imitation of his own moral perfections. We 
cannot, for a moment, doubt, that his eye must reach 
its inmost movements, and that all its emotions, and 
desires, and vohtions,.are exposed to his view. We 
must beiieve that he looks Avith displeasure when 
he perceives them wandering from himself; and 
contemplates with approbation the contest, when the 
spirit strives to throw off its moral bondage, and to 
fight its way ilpAvards to a conformity to his will. 
Upon every principle of sound philosophy, all this 
must be open to his inspection : and we can perceive 
nothing opposed to the soundest inductions of reason 
in the belief, that he should impart an influence to 
the feeble being in this high design, and conduct him 
to its accomplishment. In all this, in fact, there is 
so little improbability, that we find it impossible to 
suppose it could be otherwise. W'e find it impossible 
to believe, that such a mental process could go on 
without the knowledge of him Avhose presence is in 
every place, or that, looking upon it, he should want 
either the power or the willingness to impart his 
effectual aid. 

But, independently of our conviction of an actual 
communication from the Deity, there is a power in the 
mind itself, which is calculated to draw down upon it 
an influence of the most efiicient kind. This is pro- 
duced by the mental process which we call Faith 



Why not ? Degree of minuteness with which God must watch the move- 
ments of the soul? Inference which the writer draws from this? WhaT 
view does the authoY talie of the power of faith? 



PART II.] MEANS OF REGULATING IT. 147 



and it may be illustrated by an impression which 
many must have experienced. Let us suppose that Ave 
have a friend of exalted intelligence and virtue, who 
has often exercised over us a commanding influence. — 
restraining us from pursuits to which we felt an incli- 
nation, exciting us to virtuous conduct, and elevat- 
ing, by his intercourse with us, our impressions of a 
character on which vv^e wished to form our own. Let 
us suppose that we are removed to a distance from 
this friend, and that circumstances of difficulty or 
danger occur, in v\^hich we feel the want of a guide 
and counsellor. In the reflections which the situation 
naturally gives rise to, the image of our friend is 
brought before us ; an influence is conveyed analogous 
to that which was often produced by his presence and 
his counsel ; and we feel as if he were actually present, 
to tender his advice and watch our conduct. How 
much Avould this impression be increased, could we 
farther entertain the thought, that this absent friend 
was able, in some way, to communicate with us, so 
far as to be aware of our present circumstances, and to 
perceive our eflbrts to recall the influence of his cha- 
racter upon our own. — Such is the intercourse of the 
soul with God. Every movement of the mind is 
known to him ; his eye is present with it, wlien, in 
any situation of duty, distress, or mental discipline, the 
man, under this exercise of faith, realizes the presence 
and character of the Deity, and solemnly inquires how, 
in the particular instance, his moral feelings and his 
conduct will appear in the eye of him who seeth in 
secret. This is no vision of the imagination, bur a 



niustration? State fully the case supposed. Application of the case. 



148 



THE WILL. 



[part II. 



fact supported by every principle of sound reason, — an 
influence which a man brings down upon himself, 
when, by an effort of his own mind, he thus places 
himself in the immediate presence of the Almighty. 
The man who does so in every decision of life is he 
who lives by faith ; and, whether we regard the in- 
ductions of reason, or the dictates of sacred truth, such 
a man is taught to expect an influence greater and 
more effectual still. This is a power immediately 
from God, which shall be to him direction in every 
doubt, light in every darkness, strength in his ut- 
most weakness, and comfort in all distress*; a power 
which shall bear upon all the principles of his moral 
nature, when he carries on the mighty conflict of 
bringing every desire and every volition under a con- 
formity to the divine will. We again hazard with 
confidence the assertion, that in all this there is no 
improbability; but that, on the contrary, the impro- 
bability is entirely on the other side, — in supposing 
that any such mental process could take place, without 
the knowledge and the interposition of that incompre- 
hensible One, whose eye is upon all his works. 

Way in whicti fyith operates to preserve the moral powers? The result* 
©fit? 



PART III. 



OF THE MORAL PRI^XIPLE, OR 
CONSCIENCE. 



There has been much dispute respecting the nature 
and even the existence of the Moral Prmciple. as a 
distinct element of our mental constitution: but this 
controversy may probably be considered as allied to 
other speculations of a metaphysical nature, in regard 
to which a kind of evidence vas sought of which the 
subjects are not susceptible. Without argumg re- 
specting the propriety of speaking of a separate power 
or principle, we simply contend for the fact, that there 
is a mental exercise, b}^ which we feel certain actions 
to be right and certam others wrong. It is an element 
or a movement of our moral nature which admits of no 
analysis, and no explanation ; and is referable to no 
otlier principle than a simple recognition of the fact. 



Su^ ject of this lessoa ? What dispute in respect to the moral principle 
does the author allude to ? Does he intend to enter into this dispute ? He 
insists only upon a certain fact ; "\?.'hat is it ? Can this fact be analyzed ot 
explained 7 

13* 



150 



THE MORAL PRINCIPLE. 



[part iil 



which forces itself upon the conviction of every man 
who looks into the processes of his own mind. Of the 
existence and the nature of this most important princi- 
plCj therefore^ the evidence is entirely within. We 
appeal to the consciousness of every man, that he per- 
ceives a power which, in particular cases, warns him 
of the conduct which he ought to pursue, and admi- 
nisters a solemn admonition when he has departed 
from it. For, while his judgment conveys to him an 
impression, both of the tendencies and certain of the 
qualities of af'tions, he has, besides this, a feeling by 
which he views the actions with approbation or disap- 
probation, in reference purely to their moral aspect, 
and without any regard to their consequences. When 
we refer to the sacred writings, we find the principle 
of conscience represented as a power of such impor- 
tance, that, without any acquired knowledge, or any 
actual precepts, it is sufficient to establish, in every 
man, such an impression of his duty as leaves him 
without excuse in the neglect of it : — For when the 
Gentiles, which have not the law, do by nature the 
things contained in the law, these, having not the law, 
are a law unto themselves : which show the work of 
the law written in their hearts, their conscience also 
bearing witness, and their thoughts the meanwhile 
accusing or else excusing one another." We even 
find a power assigned to the decisions of conscience, 
differing in extent only, but not in kind, from the 
iadgment of the Almighty: — ''If our heart condemn 



Where do we find the evidence of it ? Difference between the judgment 
and the moral sense, in respect to their decisions on human actions ? Scrip- 
tural view of conscience 7 Quotation. Where is this passage found ? 



PART III.] 



THE MORAL PRINCIPLE. 



151 



lis, God is greater than our heart, and knoweth all 
things." 

The province of conscience then appears to be, to 
convey to man a certain conviction of what is mo- 
rally right and wrong, in regard to conduct in indivi- 
dual cases, and to the general exercise of the desires 
or affections. This it does independently of any ac- 
quired knowledge, and without reference to any other 
standard of duty. It does so, by a rule of right which 
it carries within itself ; and by applying this to the 
primary moral feelings, that is, the desires and affec- 
tions, so as to indicate among them a just and healthy 
balance towards each other. The desires direct us to 
certain gratifications which we feel to be worthy of 
acquirement ; and the affections lead us to a certain 
course of conduct which we feel to be agreeable to 
ourselves, or useful to others. But, to act under the 
influence of conscience is to perform actions, simply 
because we feel them to be right, and to abstain from 
others, simply because we feel them to be wrong, — 
without regard to any other impression, or to the con- 
sequence of the actions either to ourselves or others. 
He, who on this principle performs an action, though 
it may be highly disagreeable to him, or abstains from 
another though it may be highly desirable, is a consci- 
entious man. Such a man, under the influence of ha- 
bit, comes to act more and more easily under the sug- 
gestions of conscience, and to be more and more set 
free from every feeling and propensity that is opposed 

The true province of conscience 7 Do its decisions depend upon acquired 
knowledge ? How does it obtain its rule of right 7 Difference between the 
desires, the affections, and the conscience, in their influence on iiuraaii 
conauct ? Influence of habit. 



152 



THE MORAL PRINCIPLE. 



[part in. 



to it. Conscience seems therefore to hold a placo 
among the moral powers, analogous to that which 
reason holds among the intellectual ; and, when we 
view it in this relation, there appears a beautiful har- 
mony pervading the whole economy of the mind. 

By certain intellectual operations, man acquires the 
knowledge of a series of facts ; he remembers them, 
he separates and classifies them, and forms them into 
new combinations. But, with the most active exercise 
of all these operations, his mind might present an 
accum.ulation of facts, without order, harmony, or 
utility ; without any principle of combination, or 
combined only in those fantastic and extravagant forms 
which appear in the conceptions of the maniac. It is 
reason that reduces the whole into order and harmony, 
by comparing, distinguishing, and tracing their true 
analogies and relations, and then by deduchig truths 
as conclusions from the whole. It is in this manner 
particularly, that a man acquires a knowledge of the 
uniform actions of bodies on each other, and, confiding 
in the uniformity of these actions, learns to direct his 
means to the ends which he has in view. He knows 
also his own relations to other sentient beings, and 
adapts his conduct to them, according to the circum- 
stances in which he is placed, the persons with whom 
he is connected, and the objects which he wishes 
to accomplish. He learns to accommodate his mea- 
sures to new circumstances as they arise, and thus is 
guided and directed through his phj^sical relations. 



Analogy between conscience and reason ? Condition of intellectual ac- 
quisitions, v/ithout reason? Province of reason; — its powers. Example 
^ven ? 



PART III.] 



THE MORAL PRINCIPLE. 



153 



When reason is suspended, all this harmony is de- 
stroyed. The visions of the mind are acted upon as 
facts ; things are combined into fantastic forms, entirely 
apart from their true relations ; conduct is widely at 
variance with what circumstances require ; ends are 
attempted by means which have no relation to them : 
and the ends themselves are equally at variance with 
those which are suitable to the circumstances of the 
individual. Such is the maniac, whom accordingly 
we shut up, to prevent him from being d?cngerous to 
the public : — for he has been known to mistake so re- 
markably the relations of things, and the conduct 
adapted to his circumstances, as to murder his most 
valuable friend, or his own helpless infant. 

In all this process, tliere is a, striking analogy to cer- 
tain conditions of the moral feelings, and to the control 
which is exercised over them by the principle of con- 
science. By self-love, a man is led to seek his ovrn 
gratification or advantage : and the desires direct him 
to certain objects by which these propensities may be 
gratified. But the affections carry forth his views to 
other men with whom he is connected by various rela- 
tions, and to the offices of justice, veracity, and bene- 
volence, which arise out of them. Conscience is the 
regulating power, which acting upon the desires and 
affections, as reason does upon a series of facts, pre- 
serves among them harmony and order. It does so by 
repressing the propensity of selfishness, and reminding 
the man of the true relation between regard to his own 

Effect resulting when reason is suspended ? Extremes to which this dis 
order extends in the case of the maniac ? ^V'hat analogy does the writer 
draw from tliis ? Condition of the moral powers without conscience ? Pro 
rince and influence of the cnnsciencf^ '? 



154 



THE BIORAL PRINCIPLE. 



[part III. 



interest and the duties he owes to other men. It regu- 
lates his desires and pursuits, by carrying his vie^vs 
beyond present feehngs and present gratifications, to 
future times and future consequences, and by raising 
his attention to his relation to the great moral governor 
of the universe. He thus learns to adapt his conduct 
and pursuits, not to present and transient feelings, but 
to an extended view of his great and true interests as 
a moral being. Such is conscience, — still, like reason, 
pointing out the moral ends a man ought to pursue, 
and guiding him in the means by which he ought to 
pursue them ; — and the man does not act in conformity 
with the constitution of his nature, who does not yield 
to conscience the supremacy and direction over all his 
other feelings and principles of action. But the ana- 
logy does not stop here ; for we can also trace a con- 
dition in which this controlling influence of conscience 
is suspended or lost. I formerly endeavored to trace 
the manner in which this derangement arises, and 
have now only to allude to its influence on the har- 
mony of the moral feelings. Self-love degenerates into 
low selfish gratification : the desires are indulged 
without any other restraint than that which arises f^;om 
a mere selfish principle, as a regard to health, perhaps 
in some degree to reputation : the affections arc exer- 
cised only in so far as similar principles impose a cer- 
tain degree of attention to them : present and momen- 
tary impulses are acted upon, without any regard to 
future results : conduct is adapted to present gratifica- 

How does it operate ? What power ought to be supreme in the intellec- 
tual constitution ? What in the moral ? State of the mind when the con 
trollmg power of conscience is lost? State of the desires? — ■ — of the 
affections ? 



PART nr.] THE MORAL ?RTNCIPLE.' 



155 



tion, without the perception either of its mcral aspect, 
or its consequences to the man hnnself as a responsible 
being; and without regard to the means by which 
these feeHngs are gratified. In all this violation of 
moral harmony, there is no derangement of the ordi- 
nary exercise of judgment. In the most remarkable 
e:^||ppl||that can be furnished by the history of human 
^' dji^pravity, the man may be as acute as ever in the 
details of business or the pursuits of commerce. There 
is no diminution of his sound estimate of physical 
relations, for this is the province of reason. But there 
is a total derangement of his sense and approbation of 
moral relations, for this is conscience. Such a condi- 
tion of mind, then, appears to be, in reference to the 
moral feeUngs, what insanity is in regard to the intel- 
lectual. The intellectual maniac fancies himself a 
king, surrounded by every form of earthly splendor, 
and this hallucination is not corrected even by the 
sight of his bed of straw and all the horrors of his cell. 
The moral maniac pursues his way, and thinks him- 
self a wise and a happy man ; but feels not that he is 
treading a downward course, and is lost as a moral 
being. ^ 

Jn the preceding observations respecting the moral 
principle or conscience, I have alluded chiefly to its 
influence in preserving a certain harmony among the 
other feelings,— in regulating the desires by the indi- 

In such cases of moral depravity, is there necessarily any disorder of the 
judgmeni? Facts showing this? Is the disorder in such a case in the 
moral or in the intellectual constitution ? Parallel between the intellectual 
and the moral maniac ? In what point of view has the influence of consciencp 
been thus far spoken of? 



156 THE MORAL PRINCIPLE. [PART III 

« 

cations of moral purity, — and preventing self-lova 
from interfering with the duties and affections Avhich 
we owe to other men. But there is another ajid a 
most important purpose which is answered by this 
facuhy, and th<\t is, to make us acquainted with the 
moral attributes of the Deity. In strict philosophical 
language we ought perhaps to ssiy. that this l^gh pur- 
pose is accomplished by a combined operation of con- 
science and reason: but, however this may be, the 
process appears clear and intelligible in its nature, and 
fully adapted to the end now assigned to it. From a 
simple exercise of mind, directed to the great pheno- 
mena of nature, we acquire the knowledge of a First 
Cause, a being of inhnite power and iniinite wisdom: 
and this conclusion is impressed upon us in a pecuhar 
manner, when, from our own bodily and mental en- 
dowments, we infer the attributes of him who framed 
us : — He that plraited the ear," says a sacred writer, 
shall he not hear; he that formed the eye, shall he 
not see ; he that teacheth man knowledge, shall not 
he know ]"' When we trace bacliwards a series of 
finite yet intelligent beings, we must arrive at one of 
two conclusions : — ^Ve must either trace the series 
t^rougli an infinite and eternal succession of finite 
beings, each the cause of the one which succeeded it : 
or we must refer the commencement of the series to 
one great intelhgent being, him^self uncaused, infinite 
and eternal. To trace the series to one being, finite, yet 
uncaused, is totally inadmissible ; and not less so is the 

What other iinportaiit purpose is it intended to answer ? Strictly speai:- 
ing, what two powers combine to give us this knowledge 7 Process by 
which it is acquired ? Two conclusions, from wbJch we must choosSj in 
tracing back the series of intelligrent beings ? 



PART nr.] 



THE MORAL PRINCIPLE. 



15T 



conception of finite beings m an infinite and eternal 
series. The belief of one infinite being, self-existent 
and^eternal. is, therefore, the only conclusion at which 
we can arrive, as presenting any characters of credi- 
bility or truth. The superintending care, the goodness, 
and benevolence of the Deity, Ave learn, with a feeling 
of equal certainty, from tlie ample provision he has 
made for supplying the wants and ministering to the 
comfort of all the creatures whom he has made. This 
part of the argument, also, is in the clearest manner 
insisted upon in the sacred writings : v/hen the apostle 
Paul, in calling upon the people of Lystra to worship 
the true God, Vv^ho made heaven and earth, adds, as a 
source cf knowledge from which they ought to learn 
his character, He left not himself without a witness, 
in that he did good, and gave us rain from heaven and 
fruitful seasons, filling our hearts with food and glad- 
ness.'' 

A being, thus endowed Vvith infinite power, wisdom 
and goodness, we cannot conceive to exist without 
moral feelings ; and, by a process equally obvious, Vv'-e 
arrive at a distinct knowledge of these, when, from 
the moral perceptions of our own minds, we infer 
file moral attributes of him Avho thus formed us. "We 
have certain impressions of justice, veracity, compas- 
sion, and moral purity, in regard to our own conduct; 
we have a distinct approbation of these qualities in 
others ; and we attach a feeling of disapprobation to the 

Two inadmissible suppositions 7 Conclusion to which we must come ? 
Nature of the evidence of the benevolence of God 7 Appeal to this argu- 
ment in tbe Scriptures 7 State the circumstances and repeat the passage. 
How is it that we can inier the moral character of God from the moral aUn- 
hutes of man ? 

14 



158 THE MORAL PRINCIPLE. 



[part III 



infringement of them. By a simple step of reasoning, 
which conveys an impression of absolute conviction^ 
we conclude, that he, who formed us with these feelings, 
possesses, in his own character, corresponding moral 
attributes, which, while they resemble in kind, must 
infinitely exceed in degree, those qualities in the wisest 
and the best of men. In our actual observation of 
mankind, we perceive these attributes impaired in 
their exercise by human weakness, distorted by human 
passion, and impeded in their operation by personal 
wants, personal feelings, and selfish interests. But, 
apart from such deteriorating causes, we have a cer- 
tain abstract idea of the full and perfect exercise of 
those qualities ; and it is in this pure and perfect form 
that we ascribe them to the Almighty. In him, they 
can be impeded by no weakness, distorted by no pas- 
sion, and impaired in their operation by no personal 
interest. We therefore conclude him to be perfect in 
the exercise of all these moral attributes, and to take 
the most rigid estimate of any infringement of them 
by man : — this is what we call the holiness of God. 
Even the man, who has himself departed from moral 
rectitude, still feels a power within, which points with 
irresistible force to what is purity, and fixes upon him 
a convic':ion that God is pure. 

When we view such a Being, apart from any infe- 
rior creature, all seems harmony and consistency ; w^e 
have only to contemplate him as high and holy, and 
enjoying perfect happiness in his own spotless attri- 

Aclual condition of these attributes, at present among mankind. Doe-j 
this impair the argument? In what condition do we conceive of them ia 
God ? Holiness, — in what does it consist ? In what aspect does the char-ic- 
ter of the Deity appear, when viewed ])y itself? 



PART III. J 



THE MORAL PRINCIPLE. 



159 



bates. But, when we view him in relation to man in 
a state of moral disciphne, aia,d, in that sfate, tainted 
deeply with moral evil, a difficulty arises of an appal- 
ling magnitude. There is ample scope now, we per- 
ceive, for the exercise of his holiness, veracity, and 
justice ; and he appears in sublime and terrible majesty, 
in his exalted character as a moral governor. But, 
amid such a display, there is an obvious interruption 
to the exercise of compassion, especially in that es- 
sential department of it, mercy or forgiveness. This 
attribute may be exercised without restraint by an in- 
dividual, where his own interests alone ai;e concerned; 
because in him it involves only a sacrifice of self-love. 
But, forgiveness in a moral governor either implies an 
actual change of purpose, or supposes a former decision 
to have been made without sufficient knowledge of, 
or due attention to, all the facts by which he ought to 
have been influenced; it denotes either undue rigor 
in the law, or ignorance or inattention in him who ad- 
ministers it; and it may very often mterfere vvdth the 
essential requisites of justice. But, in a moral go- 
vernor of infinite perfection, there can be neither igno- 
rance of facts nor change of purpose ; the requirements 
of his justice must stand unshaken; and his law, 
written on the hearts of all his rational creatures, must 
be upheld, in the face of the universe, as holy, and 
just, and good. Is, then, the exercise of mercy to be 
excluded from our conception of the divine character, 

In what aspect does it appear when viewed in connection with the cha- 
racter and condition of man ? What is the nature of this difncully ? In 
what cases may an individual forgive without restraint ? Forgiveness exer- 
cised by a governor implies what? Can either of these causes operate in 
God's government ? 



160 



THE MORAL PRINCIPLE. 



[part 



and is there no forgiveness with God? The sound ta< 
inductions of philosophy, apphed to the actual state of 
man, brings us to this momentous question; but the 
highest efforts of human science fail to answer it. It' 
is in this our utmost need, that we are met by the dic- 
tates of revelation, and are called to humble the pride 
of our reason before that display of the harmony and 
integrity of the divine character. We there learn the 
truths, far beyond the inductions of human science, 
and the utmost conceptions of hviman thought, that an 
atonement is made, a sacrifice offered; and that the 
exercise of forgiveness is consistent with the perfec- 
tions of the Deity. Thiis, by a process of the mind 
itself, which seems to present every element of fair and 
logical reasoning, we arrive at a full conviction of the 
necessity, and the moral probability, of that truth 
which forms the great peculiarity of the Christian 
revelation. More than any other, in the whole circle 
of rehgious belief, it rises above the inductions of 
science, while reason, in its soundest conclusions, re- 
cognises its probability, and receives its truth ; and it 
stands forth alone, simply proposed to our belief, and 
offered to our acceptance, on that high but peculiar 
evidence by which is supported the testimony of God. 

The truth of these considerations is impressed upon 
us in the strongest manner, v^^hen we turn our atten- 
tion to the actual moral condition of mankind. When 
we contemplate man, as he is displayed to us by the 
soundest inductions of philosophy,— his capacity for 



Great question arising in this connection. Answer of human science to 
this question ? Answer of revelation ? Remarks upon this ?uhject. Cor 
pohoration of these views 7 



PART III.] 



THE MORAL PRINCIPLE. 



161 



distinguishing truth from falsehood, and evil from 
good; the feelings and affections wliich bind him to 
his fellow-men, and the powers which enable him to 
rise to intercourse with God : — when we consider the 
power, which sits among his other principle^ and feel- 
ings, as a faithful monitor and guide, carrying in itself 
a rule of rectitude without any other knowledge, and 
a right to govern without reference to any other au- 
thority ; we behold a fabric complete and harmonious 
in all its parts, and eminently worthy of its Almighty 
Maker; we behold an ample provision for peace, and 
order, and harmony, in the whole moral world. But, 
when we compare with these inductions the actual 
state of man, as displayed to us in the page of history, 
and in our own daily observation, the conviction is 
forced upon us, that some mighty change has taken 
place in this beauteous system, some marvellous dis- 
ruption of its moral harmony. The manner in which 
this condition arose, or the origin of moral evil under 
the government of God, is a question entirely beyond 
the reach of the human faculties. It is one of those, 
however, on which it is simply our duty to keep in 
mind, that our business is, not with the explanation, 
but with the facts; for, even by the conclusions of 
philosophy, we are compelled to believe, that man has 
fallen from his high estate, and that a pestilence has 
gone abroad over the face of the moral creation. 

In arriving at this conclusion, it is not with the in- 
ductions of moral science alone, that we compare or 

Condition of man as to his powers and capacities ? His actual state as 
exhibited by history and observation 7 Inference which we necessarily draw 
trom this ? The origin of moral evil? Remarks upon it 7 

14* 



162 



THE MORAL PJIINCIPLE. 



[part III 



contrast the actual state of man. For one bright ex- 
ample has appeared in our world, in whom was ex- 
hibited human nature in its highest state of order and 
harmony. In regard to the mighty purposes which he 
came to accomplish, indeed, philosophy fails us, and 
we are called to submit the inductions of our reason to 
the testimony of God. But, when we contemplate his 
whole character purely as a matter of historical truth, 
the conviction is forced upon us, that this was the 
highest state of ma^i; and the inductions of true 
science harmonize with the impression 'of the Roman 
centurion, when, on witnessing the conclusion of the 
earthly sufferings of the Messiah, he exclaimed, Truly 
this was the Son of God." 

When we endeavor to trace the manner, in which 
mankind have departed so widely from this high pat- 
tern, we arrive at moral phenomena of which we can 
offer no explanation. But an inquiry of much greater 
importance is to mark the process by which, in indi- 
vidual instances, conscience ceases to be the regulating 
principle of the character; and this is a simple and 
legitimate object of philosophical observation. There 
cannot, indeed, be an inquiry of more intense and 
solemn interest, than to trace the chain of sequences 
which has been established in the mind of man as a 
moral being. We can view it only as a matter of fact, 
without being able to refer it to any other principle 
than the will of Him who framed us ; but the facts 

What standard of comparison have we in respect to the moral capacities 
of man ? Can human science explain the object of the raission of the m 
Savior ? Can we explain how mankind have departed so widely from the I 
right standard? More important inquiry. - ™ 



PART in.] 



THE MORAL PRINCIPLE. 



163 



which are before us claim the serious attention of 
e\ery man, who would cultivate that most important 
of all pursuits, the knowledge of his own moral con- 
dition. The fact to which I chiefly allude is a certain 
relation, formerly referred to, between the truths which 
are calculated to act upon us as moral causes, and the 
mental emotions which ought to result from tliem; and 
between these emotions and a certain conduct which 
they tend to produce. If the due harmony between 
these be carefully cultivated, the result is a sound 
moral conditii3n : but by every instance in whicli this 
harmony is violated, a morbid influence is introduced, 
which gains strength in each succeeding A'olition, and 
carries disorder through the moral' economy. AVe have 
formerly illustrated this important moral process, by 
the relation between the emotion of compassion, and 
the conduct which ought to arise from it. If this ten- 
dency ot^ the emotion be diligently cultivated, tlie result 
IS the habit of active benevolence; but, if the emotion 
be violated, its influence is progressively diminished, 
and a character is produced of cold and barren selfish- 
ness. 

A similar chain of sequences is to be observed re- 
specting the operation of those great truths, which, 
under the regulating power of conscience, are calcu- 
lated to act as moral causes in our mental economy; 
we may take, for example, the truths relating to the 
character and perfections of the Deity, and the influ- 
ence which these ought to produce upon every rational 



Means by which a sound moral condition is attained ? Consequences of 
violating this harmony ? Example. "Example of a great moral truth which 
ought to have an influence on human character 7 



164 



THE MORAL PRINCIPLE. 



[part IIL 



being. We have seen the knowledge which we derive 
from the hght of nature respecting the attributes of 
God, when, from his works around us, we discover 
him as a being of infinite power, wisdom, and good- 
ness ; and when, from the moral impressions of our own 
minds, we infer his perfections as a moral Governor of 
infinite holiness, justice and truth. By a proper direc- 
tion of the mind to the truths which are thus conveyed 
to us respecting the Deity, there would naturally arise 
a corresponding chain of emotions of which he is the 
object. These are a sense of veneration 4o wards him, 
as infinitely great, wise, and powerful, — of love and 
thankfulness, as infinitely good, — and of habitual re- 
gard to his authority and will, as a moral governor of 
purity and justice, and as requiring a corresponding 
character in all his creatures. A close and constant 
relation ought to be preserved between these truths 
and these emotions, and on this depends the moral 
harmony of the mind. The preservation of this har- 
mony, again, is intimately connected with a mental 
process which every man feels to be voluntary, or in 
his power to perform, if he wills. It consists in a care- 
ful direction of the mind to such truths, so as to enable 
them to act as moral causes in the mental economy. 
By the established order of moral sequences, the emo- 
tions naturally follow; these are then to be cherished 
with satisfaction and reverence ; and a corresponding 
iiifiuence upon the character and conduct is the farther 
consequence. But the first step in this important pro- 



What effect is this truth calculated to produce ? Name some of the emo- 
tions it tends to awaken. Means of securing a proper influence for these 



PART III.] 



THE MORAL PRINCIPLE. 



165 



cess may be neglected; — the mind may not be directed 
with due care to the truths Avhich thus claim- its high- 
est regard ; and the natural result is a corresponding 
deficiency in the emotions and conduct which ought to 
flow from them. This will be the case in a still higher 
degree, if there has been formed any actual derange- 
ment of the moral conditiorij — if deeds have been com- 
mitted, or even desires cherished, and mental habits 
acquired, by which the indications of conscience have 
been violated. The moral harmony of the mind is • 
then lost, and, however slight may be the first impres- 
sion, a morbid influence has begun to operate in the 
mental economy, which tends gradually to gain strength, 
until it becomes a ruling principle in the Avhole charac- 
ter.\y JThe truths connected with the divine perfections 
are now neither invited nor cherished, but are felt to 
be intruders which disturb the mental tranquillity. 
The attention ceases to be directed to them, and the 
corresponding emotions vanish from the mind. Such 
appears to be the moral history of those, who, in the 
striking language of the sacred writings, ^'do not like 
to retain God in their knowledge." ^ 

When the harmony of the mind has been impaired 
to this extent, another mental condition arises, accord- 
ing to the wondrous system of moral sequences. This 
consists in a distortion of the understanding itself, re- 
garding the first great principles of moral truth. For, 
ci fearless contemplation of the truth, respecting the 
divine perfections, having become inconsistent with 



Way of preventing this influence ? Consequences. Manner in which the 
truths of revelation are regarded by a mind in such a state. E/Tect upon the 
understanding produced by these causes. 



166 



THE BIORAL PRINCIPLE. 



[part lih 



the moral condition of the mind, there next arises a 
desire to discover a view of them more m accordance 
with its own feehngs. This is followed, in due course, 
by a corresponding train of its own sreculations ; and 
these, by a mind so prepared, are received as truth. 
The inventions of the mind itself thus become the regu- 
lating principles of its emotions, and this mental pro- 
cess, advancing from step to step, terminates in moral 
degradation and anarchy. 

Nothing can be more striking than the manner in 
which these great principles of ethical science are laid 
down in the sacred writings ; — the invisible things of 
him from the creation of the world are clearly seen, 
being understood by the things that are made, even his 
eternal power and Godhead, so that they are without 
excuse: Because that, when they knew God, they 
glorified him not as God, neither were thankful ; but 
became vain in their imaginations, and their foolish 
heart was darkened. Professing themselves to be wise, 
they became fools ; and changed the glory of the un 
corruptible God into an image made like to corruptible 
man, and to birds, and four-footed beasts, and creeping 
things." — ^'And even as they did not like to retain 
God in their knowledge, God gave them over to a re- 
probate mind, to do those things which are not con- 
venient." The various steps, in this course of moral 
degradation, are here represented as a judicial infliction 
by the Deity. But this solemn view of the subject is 
in no degree inconsistent with the principle, that it 

What, in such a case, become, at last, the regulating principles of the 
mind ? Termination of the process. Repeat the passage of Scripture 
quoted in this connection. Where is this passage found ? How are the 
various steps represented in this passa^ 7 



PART III.] 



THE MORAL PRINCIPLE. 



167 



takes place according to a chain of sequences existing 
in the mind itself. For the Ahnighly One, who is said 
to inflict as a judgment thio state of moral ruin, is the 
same who estabhshed it as the uniform result of a pro- 
cess in the mental economy, to be traced in the history 
of every man who has followed the downward coarse 
which led him astray from virtue. 

To the principles which have now been stated, we 
are also to refer a point in the philosophy of human 
nature which presents a subject of most interesting re- 
flection. I allude to the fact, that the great truths of 
religious belief are so often rejected, by men who have 
acquired a reputation for exalted powers of understand- 
ing, in other departments of intellectual inquiry. The 
fact is one of intense interest; and Ave can scarcely 
wonder that superficial observers should have deduced 
from it an impression that it implies something defec- 
tive in the evidence by which these truths are proposed 
to our reception. But the conclusion is entirely un- 
warranted ; and the important principle cannot be too 
often repeated, that the attainment of truth in moral 
inquiries is essentially connected with the moral condi- 
tion of the inquirer. On this depends the anxious care 
with which he has directed his mind to the high pur- 
suit, under a deep and solemn feeling of its supreme 
importance. On this depends the sincere and humble 
and candid love of truth Avith which he has conducted 
it, apart alike from prejudice and frivolity. For with- 
out these essential elemxcnts of character, the most ex- 
Remarks of the author on this suhject. Extraordinary fact bro'ight for- 
ward in this connection ? Inference which has sometimes been deduced 
from this ? Is this conclusion warrantable ? Upon what does the attain 
ment of moral truth depend, besides sufficiency of evidenas ? 



168 THE MOHAL PRINCIPLE. [pART ill. 



alted intellect may fail of reaching the truth; the 
most acute understanding may only wander into delu- 
sion and falsehood. 

Before concluding this subject, there is another point 
which deserves to be alluded to ; — namely, the influ- 
ence produced upon all our moral judgments and de- 
cisions by Attention. This important process of the 
mind we have had occasion to mention in various parts 
of our inquiry. It consists, as we have seen, in direct- 
ing the thoughts, calmly and deliberately, to all the 
facts and considerations by which we ought to be in- 
fluenced in the particular case which is under our 
view ; and it should be accompanied by an anxious 
and sincere desire to be guided, both in our opinions 
and conduct, by the true and relative tendency of each 
of them. It is a A^oluntary process of the mind which 
every man has the power to perform ; and, on the de- 
gree in which it is habitually exercised, depend some 
of the great difierences between one man and another 
in their moral condition. We have repeatedly had 
occasion to mention that morbid state of the mind, in 
which moral causes seem to have lost their proper in- 
fluence, both on the volitions of the will, and even on 
the conclusions of the judgment : but it is a truth 
which cannot be too often referred to, how much this 
condition is influenced by the mental process which we 
are now considering. It originates, indeed, in some 
degree of that distortion of moral feeling, in conse- 
quence of which the incUnations wander from the 

In what way does the moral condition of the inquirer affect his reception 
of the truth? What other great faculty influences our moral judgments? 
In what does attention consist ? Is it voluntary or involuntary ? Remarks 
«pon its influence in the formation of character. 



PART III.J INFLUENCE OF ATTENTION. 169 

strict path of rectitude ; but the primary effect of this 
loss of mental harmony, and that by which it is per- 
petuated, appears to be chiefly a habitual misdirection 
of the attention, or a total want of consideration of 
the truths and motives, by which the moral judgments 
and decisions ought to be influenced. Apart from this 
condition of the mind, indeed, there is reason to believe, 
that the actual differences in moral judgment are in dif- 
ferent men less than we are apt to imagine. Let any 
honest man,'' says Butler, ''before he engages in any 
course of action, ask himself, — is this I am going to do 
right, or is it wrong, — is it good, or is it evil? I do not 
in the least doubt but that these questions would be 
answered agreeably to truth and virtue, by almost any 
fair man in almost any circumstances." It is in a 
great measure from the want of this simple exercise of 
attention, or of what in common language we call calm 
reflection, that men are led away, by passion, preju- 
dice, and distorted moral habits, into courses of action 
which their own sober judgment Vv^ould condemn; 
and, when a man, who has thus departed from recti- 
tude, begins to retrace his way, the first great point is 
that where he pauses in his downward career, and 
seriously proposes to himself the question, whether the 
course he has followed be worthy of a moral being. I 
allude not here to the means by which a man is led to 
take this momentous step in his moral history, but 
only to the mental process of which it consists. It is 
primarily nothing more than an exercise of attention, 

Effects produced by a habitual misdirection of the attention ? Influence 
of this faculty in respect to the differences of moral judgment among men? 
Substance of the quotation from Butler ? Effects of a want of calm refle*^- 
tion 7 Great crisis in a man's moral history ? 

15 



170 



THE MORAL PRINCIPLE. 



[part III 



calmlv and deliberately directed to the truths and con- 
siderations by which his moral decisions ought to be 
influenced; but, when a man has once been brought 
into this attitude of deep and serious thought, con- 
science comes to bear its part in the solemn process; 
and the inquirer is likely to arrive at just conclusions 
on those great questions of which he feels the impor- 
tance to his moral condition. 

It is on the principles now referred to, that, accord- 
ding to a doctrine which has been often and keenly 
controverted, we hold a man to be responsible for his 
belief The state of mind which constitutes belief is, 
indeed, one over which the will has no direct power. 
But belief depends upon evidence ; the result of even 
the best evidence is entirely dependent on attention ; 
and attention is a voluntary intellectual state over 
which we have a direct and absolute control. As it is, 
therefore, by prolonged and continued attention that 
evidence produces belief, a man may incur the deepest 
guilt by his disbelief of truths which he has failed to 
examine with the care which is due to them. This 
exercise is entirely under the control of the will ; but 
the will to exercise it respecting moral truth is closely 
connected with the love of that truth; and this is in- 
timately dependent on the state of moral feeling of the 
mind. It is thus that a man's moral condition influ- 
ences the conclusions of his judgment ; and it is thus, 
that, on the great questions of moral truth, there may 

In what does this mental state consist ? What is generally the result of 
It ? Inference from these principles in regard to responsibility for belief? 
JIas the will a direct power over belief? Has it an indirect power? In 
what way ? Inference from tLis ? How is it tnen that a man's moral con- 
dition influences his belief? 



PART III.] 



INFLUENCE OF ATTENTION. 



171 



be guilt attached to a process of the understanding, 
wliile there is both guilt and moral degradation in that 
mental condition from which it springs. 

A similar relation exists, as was formerly stated, 
between all our moral emotions, and processes Avhich 
are felt to be entirely voluntary. These emotions are, 
properly speaking, not the objects of volition, nor do 
they arise directly at our bidding; but, according to 
the constitution of the mind, they are the natural or 
established result of certain intellectual processes, and 
in some sense, even of bodily actions, both of v/hicl 
are entirely voluntary. The emotions of compassioi 
and benevolence, for example, are the natural result 
of the sight or even the description of scenes of distress 
and the primary steps in this process are entirely with 
in our power to perform, if we will. We can visit the 
afflicted family, listen to their tale of distress, and con- 
sider their circumstances, that is, give our attention 
to them in such a manner that the natural and proper 
effect may be produced upon our moral feelings. We 
can give the same kind of attention, and with a similar 
result, to a case which is only described to us by 
another; or we may neglect all this mental process. 
Engrossed with the business or the frivolities of life, 
we may keep ourselves at a distance from the persons 
and the scenes that might operate in this manner on 
our moral feelings ; we may refuse to listen to the tale 
of sorrow, or, if compelled to hear it, we may give it 
little attention and no consideration. The moral feel- 
Are all our moral emotions thus dependent upon voluntary efforts ? Are 
they directly dependent upon the will ? Are they indirectly ? Examj^ie 7 
Process by which we can increase the power of these emotions ? Process by 
which we can diminish it 7 



172 



THE MORAL PRINCIPLE. 



[part III 



ing does not follow, and this course, after a certain 
repetition, terminates in confirmed and barren selfish- 
ness. We see many instances in which we distinctly 
recognise this course of mental or moral sequence. If, 
in regard to a particular case of distress, for example, ^ 
we have come to a deliberate conviction of the worth- 
lessness of the individual, and have determined to with- 
hold our aid, we refuse to see him, and we decline 
hearing from another any thing more of his history ; 
we say, we have made up our mind not to allow our 
compassion to be any more worked upon in his favor. 
We thus recognise the natural relation' between the 
sight or even the description of distress, and the pro- 
duction of certain feelings in ourselves ; and we re- 
cognise also the legitimate means for preventing this 
influence in certain cases, in which, by a deliberate act 
of judgment, we have determined against having these 
feelings excited. If, notwithstanding this determina- 
tion, we happen to be brought within the influence of 
the distress which we wished to avoid, we consider 
this as a sufiicient ground for acting, in the instance, 
against our sober judgment. We had determined 
against it, we say, but what can you do when you see 
people starving ? We thus recognise as legitimate that 
process by which, in certain cases, v/e keep ourselves 
beyond this influence ; but we attach no feeling of ap- 
probation to the moral condition of him who, being 
subjected to the influence, can resist it; that is, who 
can really come into contact with distress, and shut 

Can we produce a permanent change in the character in this way? Com 
men phraseology illustrative of this principle ? What truth is recognised by 
this phraseology-? Is the control of the will direct in sucli a case ? Supu" 
Eition made to illustrate this ? 



PART III.] 



INFLUENCE OF ATTENTION. 



173 



his heart against it. And even with regard to the 
course which we here recognise as legitimate, much 
caution is required, before we allow a process of the 
judgment to interfere with the natural and healthy 
course of the moral feelings. If the interference arises, 
not from a sound process of the understanding, but 
from a course in which selfishness bears a considerable 
part, an injurious influence upon the moral condition 
of the mind is the necessary consequence. We thus 
perceive that, in the chain of sequences relating to the 
benevolent feelings, there are three distinct steps, two 
of which are entirely under the control of the will. A 
man has it entirely in his poAver to place himself in 
contact with objects of distress, and to follow out the 
call of duty in considering their circumstances, and 
entering into their feelings. The natural result is a 
train of emotions which arise in his own mind, prompt- 
ing him to a particular line of conduct. To act upon 
these emotions is again under the power of his will; 
and if the whole of this chain of sequences be duly fol- 
lowed, the result is a sound condition of this part of 
the moral economy. If either of the voluntary steps 
be neglected or violated, the mental harmony is lost, 
and a habit is formed of imfeeling selfishness. 

The principle, which has thus been illustrated by 
the benevolent afiections, is equally true of our other 
moral emotions. These emotions are closely connect- 
ed with certain truths, which are calculated to give 

Caution suggested here ? How many distinct steps are named in relation 
to benevolent feeling ? First step ? Second step ? Third step '? How 
many of these are voluntary? Effect of neglecting either of these ? Are 
these principles applicable to the other moral emotions 7 Their connectioa 
Urith the truths which give rise to them? 

15* 



174 



THE MORAL PRINCIPLE. 



[part HL 



rise to them, according to the constitution of our moral 
economy. Now, the careful acquisition of the know- 
ledge of these truths, and a serious direction of the at- 
tention to their tendencies, are intellectual processes 
which are as much under the power of our will, as are 
tlie acts of visiting and giving attention to scenes of 
distress ; and the due cultivation of them involves an 
equal degree of moral responsibility. This again is 
connected with the remarkable power which we possess 
over the succession of our thoughts. We can direct 
the mind into a particular train ; we can continue it 
and dwell upon it with calm and deliberate attention, 
so that the truths, which it brings before us, may pro- 
duce their natural and proper effect on our moral feel- 
ings. The emotions thus excited lead to a certain line 
of conduct, which also is voluntary ; and on the due 
cultivation of this chain of sequences depends a healthy 
moral condition. But we may neglect those parts of 
the sequence which are under the control of our will. 
We may abstain from directing our attention to such 
truths ; we may view them in a slig?it, frivolous, or 
distorted manner, or we may dismiss them altogether ; 
and if any degree of the emotions should be excited, 
we may make no effort towards the cultivation of the 
conduct to which they would lead us. The due cul- 
tivation of this power over the succession of our 
thoughts, is that which constitutes one of the great dif- 
ferences between one man and another, both as intel- 
lectual and moral beings ; and, though correct moral 
emotions are not properly the objects of volition, it is 



The way in which we have power over them ? In what way can we pre- 
vent such emotions rising in the mind ? 



PART IIL] 



INFLUENCE OF ATTENTION. 



175 



thus that a man may incur the deepest moral guilt in 
the want of them. 

The subject also leads to conclusions of the greatest 
nnportance respecting the principles on which we ought 
10 conduct religious instruction, particularly in regard 
to the cultivation of religious emotions. It reminds us 
of the important law of our nature, that all true culti- 
vation of religious emotion must be founded upon a 
sound culture of the understanding in the knowledge 
of religious truth, and a careful direction of the powers 
of reasoning and judging, both to its evidences and its 
tendencies. All impulse that does not arise in this 
manner can be nothing more than an artificial excite- 
ment of feeling, widely different from the emotion of 
a regulated mind. Such a system generates wild 
enthusiasm ; and the principle is of peculiar and es- 
sential importance in the education of the young. In 
their susceptible minds rehgious emotion is easily pro- 
duced, and, by a particular management, may be fos- 
tered for a time. But those who have been trained in 
this manner are little qualified to meet the collisions of 
active life, and we need not wonder if they should 
make shipwreck of a faith which has not been founded 
in knowledge. 



Before leaving the subject of the Moral Principle, 
there are two points closely connected with it which 

Deduction from these principles in respect to t!ie 3:\\\h of vvronir emotions? 
Remarks on the hearing of this suhject upon religious instruction? Nature 
of the impulses which do not originate in the truth ? Trait of mind produced 
by them ? 



176 



THE MORAL PRINCIPLE, 



[part III. 



remain to be noticed. The one relates to the origin 
and immiitabihty of moral distinctions, and, in con- 
nection with this, a class of speculations which hold a 
conspicuous place in the history of ethical science, 
under the name of Theories of Morals. The other 
refers to a certain harmony or principle of arrange- 
ment, which the different moral feelings ought to pre- 
serve towards each other in a well-regulated mind. 



§ l.~OF THE ORIGIN AND IMMUTABILITY 
OF MORAL DISTINCTIONS AND 
THEORIES OF MORALS. 

In treating of the moral powers, I have considered 
various feelings as distinct parts of our constitution, 
each intended to answer a specific purpose in the pre- 
sent scene of moral discipline. I am aware of an 
objection that may be urged against this mode of view- 
ing the subject, — namely, that it is an unnecessary 
multiplication of original principles. I am not inclined 
to dispute respecting the term, original principles, I 
only contend for the fact, that there are certain feehngs 
or propensities which are found to operate in the whole 
of mankind ; and, with regard to these, I consider our 
object to be, simply to view man as he is. In his 
physical relations, we find him endowed with a variety 

Name the two points which the author proceeds to notice in conckision. 
How has the author considered the various susceptibilities of the heart in 
treating of the moral powers ? Objections anticipated ? Does he insist OD 
calling these feelings " original principles 



SEC. I.j 



THEORIES OF MORALS. 



177 



of senses, and a great variety of bodily functions, 
each adapted to its proper purpose, and all distinct 
from each other ; and the physiologist is content to 
view them simply as they are. Were he to exercise 
his ingenuity upon them, he might contend with much 
plausibility, that it is highly incorrect to speak of five 
distinct and separate senses; for that they are all 
merely modifications of sensation, differing only in the 
various kinds of the external impression. Thus, what 
is vulgarly called sight is the simple sensation of light, 
and hearing is merely the sensation of sound. This 
would be all very true, but it does not appear to 
elucidate the subject; nor, by any ingenuity of such 
speculation, could we be enabled to know more con- 
cerning these senses than when we called them sight 
and hearing. In the same manner it would appear, 
that the course of inquiry, respecting our moral feel- 
ings, is simply to observe what these feelings really 
are, and what are their obvious tendencies. When we 
have done so on adequate foundation, I conceive we 
have every reason for considering them as principles 
implanted in us by the Creator, for guidance in our 
present relations ; and, like the functions of our bodies, 
so the powers and feelings of our mind show a won- 
derful adaptation and design, Avorthy of their Omnipo- 
tent Cause. But, we can know nothing of them 
beyond the facts, and nothing is to be gained by any 
attempt, however ingenious, to simplify or explain 

Analugy drawn from the physical powers of man, to iUustrate this subject ? 
Corresponding objection which might be made to the classification of the 
senses ? True object of inquiries respecting our moral feelings ? True ex- 
tent and limit of our knowledge ? Do these principles apply to the corpo- 
real as well as to the moral powers ? 



178 



THE MORAL PRINCIPLE. 



[part III. 



them. We have formerly had occasion to alhide to 
various speculations, of a similar character, respecting 
the powers of perception and simple intellect, all of 
which have now given way before the general admis- 
sion of the truth, that, on the questions to which they 
refer, no human sagacity can carry us one step beyond 
the simple knowledge of the facts. 

It will probably be admitted, that there have been 
many similar unprofitable speculations in the philoso- 
phy of the moral feelings ; and that these speculations, 
instead of throwing any light upon the subject, have 
tended rather to withdraw the attention of inquirers 
from the questions of deep and serious importance 
connected with the investigation. Among these, per- 
haps, we may reckon some of the doctrines which 
hold a prominent place in the history of this branch 
of science, under the name of Theories of Morals. 
These doctrines agree in admitting the fact, that there 
are among mankind certain notions respecting right 
and wrong, moral and immoral actions; and they 
then profess to account for these impressions, or to 
explain how men come to think one action right and 
another wrong. A brief view of these theories may 
properly belong to an outline of this department of 
science. 

In contemplating the conduct of men as placed in 
certain relations towards each other, we perceive some 
actions which we pronounce to be right, and others 
v/hich we pronounce to be wrong. In forming our 

Useless speculations on these subjects ? Tendency of such speculations 7 
One important class of such speculations ? Truth admitted by all these tbeo- 
ries 7 Object which they Pittpmpt tn accompb'sh ? 



SEC. I.] THEORIES OF MORALS. 179 



opinion of them in this manner, we refer to the niten- 
tions of the actor, and, if we are satisfied that he really- 
intended what we see to be the effect or the tendency 
of liis conduct, or even that he purposed something 
which he was prevented from accompUshing, we view 
him with feehngs of moral approbation or disapproba- 
tion, or, in otlier words, apply to him the award of 
praise or blame. Such is our simple idea of virtue or 
vice, as applied either to the act or the agent. "We have 
a conviction that there is a line of conduct to which 
ourselves and others are bound by a certain kind of 
obligation : a departure from this constitutes moral 
demerit or vice; a correct observance of it constitutes 
virtue. 

This appears to be our primary impression of vice 
and virtue. The next question is, what is the origin 
of the impression, or on what ground is it, that we 
conclude certain actions to be right and others wrong? 
Is it merely from a view of their consequences to our- 
selves or others ? or do we proceed upon an absolute 
conviction of certain conduct being right, and certain 
other 'i^^rong, without carrying the mind farther than 
the simple act, or the simple intention of the actor, 
without any consideration of the effects or the tenden- 
cies of the action ? This is the question which has been 
so keenly agitated in the speculations of ethical sci- 
ence, namely, respecting the origin and nature of moral 
distinctions. On the one hand, it is contended, that 
these moral impressions are in themselves immutable, 

In looking at human actions to wiiat do we- at first refer, to ascertain their 
moral character ? Nature of the simple idea of virtue or vice ? Question 
arising respecting it ? Two ways m which the idea of right and wrong may 
anse? 



180 



THE MORAL PRINCIPLE. 



[part IIL 



and that, an absolute conviction of their immutabiUty 
is fixed upon ns in that part of our constitution which 
we call conscience ; in other words, there is a certain 
conduct to which we are bound by a feehng of obliga- 
tion, apart from all other considerations whatever; 
and we have an impression that a departure from this 
in ourselves or others constitutes vice. On the other 
hand, it is maintained, that these distinctions are en- 
tirely arbitrary, or arise out of circumstances, so that 
what is vice in one. case may be virtue in another. 
Those who have adopted the latter hypothesis have 
next to explain, what the circumstances are which 
give rise, in this manner, to our impressions of vice 
and virtue, moral approbation or disapprobation. The 
various modes of explaining this impression have led 
to the Theories of Morals. 

The system of Mandeville ascribes our impressions 
of moral rectitude entirely to the enactments of legis- 
lators. Man, he says, naturally seeks only his own 
gratification, without any regard to the happiness of 
other men. But legislators found that it would be 
necessary to induce him, in some way, to surrender a 
portion of his personal gratification for the good of 
others, and so to promote the peace and harmony of 
society. To accomplish this with such a selfish being, 
it Avas necessary to give him some equivalent for the 
sacrifice he thus made ; and the principle of his nature 
which they fixed upon, for this purpose, was his love 
of praise. They made certain laws for the general 



First view which has been contended for ? Second view ? System of 
Mandcviile ? Mandeville's viev/s of human character ? His view of the 
object of human laws ? 



SEC. I.] 



THEORIES OF BIORALS. 



181 



goodj and then flattered mankind into the behef that it 
was praiseworthy to observe them, and noble to sacri- 
fice a certain degree of their own gratification for the 
good of others. Wtiat we call virtue thus resolves 
itself into the love of praise. In regard to such a sys- 
tem as this, it has been thought sufficient to point out 
the distinction between the immutable principles of 
morality and those arrangements which are dependent 
upon mere enactment. Such are many of the regula- 
tions and restrictions of commerce. They are intend- 
ed for the public good, and, while they are in force, it 
is the duty of every good citizen to obey them. A 
change of the law, however, changes their character, 
for they possess in themselves none of the quahties 
of merit or demerit. But no lavvs can aher, and no 
statutes modify, those great principles of moral conduct 
which are graved indelibly on the conscience oi all 
classes of men. Kings, it has been said, may make 
laws, but cannot create a virtue. 

By another modification of this system, our impres- 
sions of virtue and vice are said to be derived entirely 
from mutual compact. Men, finding that there was a 
certain course of action v/hich would contribute to 
tlieir mutual advantage, and vice vej^sa^ entered into 
an agreement to observe certain conduct, and abstain 
from certain other. The violation of this compact 
constituted vice, the observance of it virtue. 

By a theory, supported by some eminent men, as 
Ciarke and Wollaston, virtue was considered to depend 
on a conformity of the conduct to a certain sense of the 

Into what principle does he resolve virtue ? Refutation of this system? 
Are the principles of virtue really independent of human laws 7 Modilica 
tion of this s5-stem ? Theory of Clarke and Wollaston ? 



182 



THE MORAL PRINCIPLE. 



[part III. 



fitness of things, or the truth of things. The mean- 
ing of this, it must be confessed, is rather obscure. It 
however evidently refers the essence of virtue to a 
relation perceived by a process of reason ; and there- 
fore may be held as at variance with the belief of the 
impression being universal. 

According to the Theory of Utility^ as warmly sup- 
ported by Mr. Hume, we estimate the virtue of an 
action and an agent entirely by their usefulness. He 
seems to refer all our mental impressions to two princi- 
ples, reason and taste. Reason gives us simply the 
knowledge of truth or falsehood, and is no motive of 
action. Taste gives an impression of pleasure or pain ; 
so constitutes happiness or misery, and becomes a 
motive of action. To this he refers our impressions of 
beauty and deformity, vice and virtue. He has, ac- 
cordingly, distinctly asserted that the words right and 
wrong signify nothing more than sweet or sour, plea- 
sant or painful, being only effects upon the mind of the 
spectator produced by the contemplation of certain con- 
duct, — and this, as we have already seen, resolves 
itself into the impression of its usefulness. An obvious 
objection to the system of utility was, that it might be 
applied to the effects of inanimate matter as correctly 
as to the deeds of a voluntary agent. A printing-press 
or a steam-engine m^ight be as meritorious as a man of 
extensive virtue. To obviate this, Mr. Hume was 
driven to a distinction, which in fact amounted to 
giving up the doctrine, namely, that the sense of utility 

Is its meaning clear? Objection to it ? Hume's theo^? To what tAvo 
principles does he refer aJl our mental impressions? tW province of rea- 
son ? of taste 7 His idea of right and wrong ? Obvious objection to 

this system ? 



SEC. I.] 



THEORIES OF MORALS. 



183 



must be combined with a feeling of approbation. This 
leads us back to the previous question, on what this 
feeling of approbation is founded, and at once recog- 
nises a principle, distinct from the mere perception of 
utility. Virtuous conduct may indeed always contri- 
bute to general utility, (5r general happiness; but this 
is an effect only, not the cause or the principle wliich 
constitutes it virtuous. This important distinction has 
been well stated by professor Mills of Oxford. He 
defines morality to be, ^'an obedience to the law and 
constitution 6{ man's nature, assigned him by the Deity 
in conformity to his own essential and unchangeable 
attributes, the effect of which is the general happiness 
of his creatures. We may safely assert, that what- 
ever is right is also expedient for man ; but the con- 
verse by no means follows, — that what is expedient, 
that is, what mankind think would be expedient, comes 
to be right. 

We come now to the Selfish System of morals, ac- 
cording to which the fundamental principle of the con- 
duct of mankind is a desire to promote their own 
gratification or interest. This theory has appeared in 
various forms, from a very early period in the history 
of ethical science ; but the most remarkable promoter 
of it in more modern times was Mr. Hobbes. Accor- 
ding to him, man is influenced entirely by what seems 
calculated, more immediately or more remotely, to 
promote his own interest; whatever does so he con 

* Lecture on the Theology of Moral Obligation. Oxford, 1S30. 

IMr. Hume's mode of obviating this objection ? What is the true relatioi 
of virtuous conduct to utility ? Professor Mills' definition of morality ? The 
selfish system ? Who has been the most distinguished promoter of it m 
mndern times ? 



184 



THE MORAL PRINCIPLE. 



[part III 



siders as right, the opposite as wrong. He is driven 
to society by necessiiy, and then, whatever promotes 
the general good he considers as ultimately calculated 
to promote his own. This system is founded upon a 
fallacy, similar to that referred to under the former 
head. Virtuous conduct does impart gratification, and 
that of the highest kind ; and, in the strictest sense of 
the word, it promotes the true interest of the agent ; 
but this tendency is the effect, not the cause; and 
never can be considered as the principle which imparts 
to conduct its character of virtue ; nor do we perform 
it merely because it affords us gratification, or pro- 
motes our interest. The hypothesis, indeed, may be 
considered as distinctly contradicted by facts ; for even 
in our own experience, it is clear, that the pleasure 
attending an act of generosity or virtue in ourselves, 
as well as our approbation of it in others, is diminish- 
ed or destroyed by the impression, that there was a 
selfish purpose to answer by it. 

There is a modification of the selfish system which 
attempts to get rid of its more offensive aspect by a 
singular and circuitous chain of moral emotions. We 
have experienced, it is said, that a certain attentioh to 
the comfort or advantage of others contributes to our 
own. A kind of habit is thus formed, by which we 
come at last to seek the happiness of others for their 
own sake ; so that, by this process, actions, which at 
first were considered only as inexpedient, from being 
opposed to self-love, at length and insensibly come to 
be considered as immoral. This can be considered as 



His theory. Author's reply to his views ? What facts contradict it ? A 
mrnlification of the selfish system ? Explain it in full. 



SEC. l] 



THEORIES OF MORALS. 



185 



nothing more than an ingenious play upon words., and 
deserves only to be mentioned as a historical fact, in a 
view of those speculations by which this important 
subject has been obscured and bewildered. 

Another modification of the theories of morals re- 
mains to be mentioned ; namely, that of the distin- 
guished Paley. This eminent writer is decidedly 
opposed to the doctrine of a moral sense or moral 
principle; but the system which he proposes to substi- 
tute in its place must be acknowledged to be liable to 
considerable objections. He commences with the pro- 
position that virtue is doing good to mankind, in 
obedience to the will of God, and for the sake of ever- 
lasting happiness. The good of mankind, therefore, is 
the object, the will of God the rule, and everlasting 
happiness the motive of human virtue. The will of 
God, he subsequently goes on to show, is made known 
to us, partly by revelation, and partly by Avhat we 
discover of his designs and dispositions from his works, 
or, as we usually call it, the light of nature. From 
this last source he thinks it is clearly to be inferred, 
that God wills and wishes the happiness of his crea- 
tures; consequently, actions which promote that will 
and wish must be agreeable to him, and the contrary. 
The method of ascertaining the will of God concerning 
any action, by the light of nature, therefore, is, to in- 
quire into the tendency of the action to promote or 

How this theory is to he considered ? The last theory to be considered, 
whose 7 Does he admit or deny a distinct moral sense ? The fundamental 
prmciple in his system? What does he consider the object of human vir- 
tue ? what the rule 7 what the motive 7 His reasoning from these 

premises ? 

16* 



186 



THE MORAL PRINCIPLE. 



[part III. 



diminish general happiness. Proceeding on these 
groundSj he then arrives at the conclusion, that what- 
ever is expedient is right ; and that it is the utihty of 
any moral rule alone which constitutes the obligation 
of it. In his farther elucidation of this theory, Dr. 
Paley admits, that an action may be useful, in an indi- 
vidual case, which is not right. To constitute it right, it 
is necessary that it shall be "expedient upon the wnoie, 
— at the long run, in all its effects, collateral and remote 
2s well as those which are immediate and direct." 

In presuming to offer a criticism upon Paley, I readi- 
ly concede to the defenders of his system, that it is not 
to be classed with the utilitarianism of Hume and 
Godwin; and that it is not, correctly speaking, charge- 
able with selfishness, in holding out the happiness of a 
future state as a motive to virtue. The latter part of 
his system is clearly countenanced by the sacred wri- 
tings: and it does appear to be a stretch of language, 
to apply the term selfishness to the longing which the 
sincere Christian feels for the full enjoyment of God. 
In regard to the former part of his doctrine, again, it 
appears that Paley meant to propose the will of God 
as the rule or obligation of morals, and utility only as 
a criterion or guide; though it must be confessed that 
his language is liable to much misconstruction, and is 
repeatedly at variance with itself. The real objection 
to the doctrine of Paley, I apprehend, lies m his un- 
qualitied rejection of the supreme authority of con- 
science, and in the mentah operation which he substi- 



His conclusion? What I's necessary, according to this theory, to render 
an action right ? Points conceded by the author iu respect to this system ? 
Fundamental objection to Paley 's doctrine ? 



SEC. I.] 



THEORIES OF MORALS. 



187 



tiites ill its place, namely, a circuitous process of 
reasoning, in each individual, respecting the entire and 
ultimate expediency of actions. There are two con- 
siderations which appear to present serious objections 
to this part of the system as a doctrine to be applied to 
practical purposes. (1.) If we suppose a man dehbe- 
rating respecting an action, which he perceives would 
be eminently expedient and useful in an individual 
case, and which he feels to be highly desirable in its 
immediate reference to that case; we may naturally 
ask, whether he is in a likely condition to find his way 
to a sound conclusion respecting the consequences of 
the action ''upon the whole, at the long run, in all its 
consequences, remote and collateral." It may certain- 
ly be doubted whether, in any case, there is not great 
danger of differences of opinion arising respecting this 
extended and ultimate expediency; and it musi be ad- 
mitted that, in the man now referred to, the very cir- 
cumstances of his perception of great and immediate 
utility, and the state of desire connected with it, would 
constitute a moral condition which might interfere, in 
a very material degree, with his calculation as to its 
ultimate expediency. Upon whatever system we pro- 
ceed, I fear it must be conceded as a fact, that there is 
a singular propensity in the mass of mankind to con- 
sider their own pains and pleasures before those of 
other men ; and this propensity must interfere with 
that cool course of moral calculation which the system 
of utility must consider as indispensable. (2.) Inde- 
pendently of this consideration, we may be allowed to 



Can this system be easily applied in practice ? First great practical aiffi 
tulty ? State it in full. 



188 



THE MORAL PRINCIPLE. 



PART m.j 



doubt, whether any human being can arrive at such 
an extensive knowledge, as this theory seems to rendei 
necessary, of all the consequences of an action, remote 
and collateral. This would appear to constitute a kind 
and a degree of knowledge to be found only in the 
omniscience of the Deity. It is, in fact, by giving its 
full weight to this difficulty, that the doctrine of utility 
has been employed by some foreign writers, in their 
attempts to undermine the whole foundation of morals. 
^•'The goodness of actions." says Beausobre. in his 
Pyrrhonisme Raisonable. '-'depends upon their conse- 
quences, which man cannot foresee, nor accurately 
ascertain.'' What harmony, indeed, or what consis- 
tency of moral sentiment can we expect from a system, 
by which man himself is made the judge of the code 
of morals to which he is to be subject, and by which 
his decisions, on a question so momentous, are made 
to rest on those remote consequences of actions which 
he must feel to be beyond the reach of his limited 
faculties ? 

If these observations be well-founded, I think we 
cannot hesitate to maintain, that, on such a nice calcu- 
lation of consequences, it is impossible to found a rule 
of morals in any degree adapted to the necessities of 
man. The same objection applies to every doctrine, 
which does not recognise the supremic authority of 
conscience as an original part of our moral'constitution, 
warning us of certain conduct as immutably right, and 
certain other conduct as immutably wrong, without 

Second great practical difnculty ? Degree of knowledge necessar}- in order 
to apply the system ? Beausobre 's argument ? Result of the author's obser- 
rations. What principle is it absolutely necessary to recognise n every 
moral t leory ? 



SEC. r.] THEORIES OF MORALS. 189 

any regard either to our own advantage, or to our 

judgment of the tendency of the deeds. Whenever we 
depart from this great principle, we reduce every moral 
decisioii to what must primarily be a process of reason- 
^g. ana m which, from the intricate calculation of con- 
s'^' r^-^.^-^es which necessarily arises, there can scarcely 
1 e differences of opinion respecting the tendency 

of actions, instead of that absolute conviction which 
the deep importance of the subject renders indispensa- 
ble. It may. farther, be confidently stated as a matter 
of fact, that a conscientious man. in considering an 
action which involves a point of moral duty, does not 
enter upon any such calculation of its consequences. 
He simply asks himself. Is it right ? and so decides, 
according to an impulse within, which he feels to be a 
part of his moral constitution, susceptible of no expla- 
nation, and not admitting of being referred to any other 
principle. I confess, indeed, that I cannot perceive 
how the doctrine of utility, in any of its forms, can be 
reconciled vrith the principle of moral responsibihty. 
For v.'hat we commonly call vice and virtue must re- 
solve themselves mfre^y into differences of opinion 
respecting what is ro ' -edient in all its consequen- 
ces, remote and col.;. - V\'e have already alluded 
to the considerations Vv'hich must make this decision 
one of extreme diniculty: and how can we ascribe 
moral guilt to that which, though in vulgar language 
we may call it vice, must very often be nothing more 

Consequence of departiii§ from this principle 7 Can men be expected to 
agree m any calculation of the consequences of actions ? Does a consci- 
entioas man make any such calculation in estimating the moral character of 
actions? To what must virtue and vice resolve themselves in all ihtories 
of lUility 7 



190 



THE MORAL PRINCIPLE. 



[part III. 



than an error in judgment respecting this uhimate 
good ? 

In regard to the whole of this important subject, I 
cannot see the necessity for the circuitous mental ope- 
rations which have been made to apply to it; nor ca|^ 
1 enter into the repugnance, shown by various classes 
of moralists, against the beUef of a process or a princi- 
ple in our constitution, given us for a guide in our 
moral rela.tions. It is unnecessary to dispute about its 
name, or even about its origin; for the former is of no 
importance, and of the latter we know nothing. The 
question relates simply to its existence as a mental 
exercise distinct from any process of reasoning, and the 
only criterion to which the question can be referred, is 
an appeal to the moral feelings of every individual. 
Is there not a mental movement or feeling, call it what 
we may, by which we have a perception of actions as 
just or unjust, right or wrong; and by which we expe- 
rience shame or remorse respecting our own conduct 
in particular instances, and indignation against the 
conduct of others? Every one is conscious of such a 
mental exercise; and there are two considerations 
which, I thinkj may be referred to as moral facts, 
showing a clear and decided difference between it and 
any simple process of reasoning. (1.) I would ask 
whether, in deciding on his conduct, every man is not 
conscious of two classes of actions, in regard to which 
the processes of his mind differ widely from each other. 

Does the author think there is any valid objection to admitting a distinct 
principle in the constitution, by which moral relations are recognised ? Has 
such a principle been objected to frequently ? Is its name of any great con- 
sequence ? Have we not a direct perception of the qualities of actions aa 
right or wrong 7 Is this perception the result of any process of reasoning 



SEC. I.] 



THEORIES OF MORALS. 



191 



III decidiiig respecting actions of the one class, he care- 
fully and anxiously deliberates on their tendencies, 
that is, their utility towards himself, or to others whose 
welfare he has in view; and he reflects on what was 
his conduct in similar cases, on former occasions. In 
deciding respecting actions of the other class, he enters 
into no such calculations; he feels an immediate im- 
pression that a certain course is right, and a certain 
other wrong, without looking a single step into their 
tendencies. Every one is conscious of this difference 
between acting from a perception of utility, and from 
a feeling of obligation or a sense of duty ; and it would 
be difficult to prove that any perception of utility alone 
ever amounts to an actual obligation. (2.) In that 
class of actions to which is properly applied a calcula- 
tion of utility, we see the most remarkable differences 
in judgment manifested by men, whom we regard as 
holding a high place in respect both of integrity and 
talent. Let us take for example the measures o{ politi- 
cal economy. A conscientious statesman feels that he 
is bound to pursue measures calculated to promote the 
good of his country ; but the individual measures are 
often questions of expediency or utility. And what an 
endless diversity of judgment do we observe respecting 
them; and how often do we find measures proposed 
by able men, as calculated to produce important public 
benefit, which others, of no inferior name, with equal 
confidence condemn as frivolous, or even dangerous. 
It there can be such a difl^erence of opinion respecting 

First consideration showing the difference ? Remarks on tiie difference 
between calculating expediency and feeling moral ohligatirn. Second con- 
sideration ? Is the judgment formed by different mcDj iii respect to tn« 
utility of actions, uniform ? Illustration. 



THE MORAL PRINCIPLE. 



[eart in. 



one class of actions, we cannot avoid tne impression 
that there may be similar differences respecting others, 
whenever the decision is left to a simple process of 
reason ; and we cannot but feel some misgivings as to 
what the state of human society would be, if men, in 
their moral decisions, were kept together by no other 
ties than the speculations of each individual respecting 
general utility. In any such process, we can see no 
provision for that uniformity of feeling required for the 
class of actions in which are concerned our moral de- 
cisions ; and I can see nothing unphilosophical in the 
belief, that the Creator has provided, in reference to 
these, a part or a process in our moral constitution, 
which is incapable of analysis, but which proves, as 
Butler has termed it, ''a rule of right within, to every 
man who honestly attends to it.*' 

To this view of the subject I would add only one 
consideration, which alone appears to present an insur- 
mountable objection to the doctrine of utility in all its 
modifications; namely, that any correct ideas of the 
utility of an action can be derived only from experi- 
ence. The study of the principles of morality, there- 
fore, would consist of a series of observations or 
experiments, by which valid conclusions might be 
ascertained; and an individual, entering upon the 
momentous question, would require either to trust to 
the conclusions of others, or to make the observations 
and experiments for himself In the former case, he 

If supposed utilitj' was the standard of moral obligation, could there be 
uniforniity amon^men in respect to moral truth? The author's conclusion? 
An msurmountable objection to the doctrine of utility ? On this theory what 
would be the nature of the study of morals ? Difficulty in which eacn indi- 
Tidual student would be placed ? 



SEC. I.] 



THEORIES OF 3I0PvALS. 



193 



could not fail to perceive the precarious nature of the 
basis on which he was receiving principles of such 
weighty importance. He could not fail to remark, 
that, in other sciences, unsound and premature deduc- 
tions had been brought forward, even on high authori- 
ty, and allowed to usurp the place of truth. How is 
he to be satisfied, that, in this highest of all inquiries, 
similar errors had not been committed? To avoid such 
uncertainty, he may resolve to make the observations 
or experiments for himself, and to trust only to his own 
conclusions. But here he is met by another difiiculty 
of appalling magnitude. For a lifetime may not suffice 
to bring the experiments to a close; and, during this, 
he must remain in the same uncertainty on the great 
principles of morals, as respecting the periods of a 
comet, which, having been seen for a day, darts off 
into its eccentric orbit, and may not return for a centu- 
ry. How can it accord with our convictions of the 
wisdom of Him who made us, that he should have 
made us thus? 

The foundation of all these theories of morals^ then, 
seems to be the impression, that there is nothing right 
or wrong, just or unjust, in itself ; but that our ideas of 
right and wrong, justice and injustice, arise either from 
actual law or mutual compact, or from our view of the 
tendencies of actions. Another modification of these 
theories, liable, as it is sometimes stated, to similar 
objection, ascribes the origin of right and wrong direct- 



Difficulty in the way of our taking the results-of the observations of others ? 
Difficulty in the way of each man's making the observations himself? Erro- 
neous foundation of ail the theories of morals thus far adverted to ? Ano- 
ther theor}^ ? 

17 



194 



THE MORAL PRINCIPLE. 



[part in. 



]y to the will of the Deity, and holds that there is 
nothing wrong which might not have been right, if he 
had so ordained it. 

By the immutability of moral distinctions, as oppos- 
ed to these theories, we mean, that there are certain 
actions which are immutably right, and which we are 
bound in duty to perform, and certain actions which 
are immutably wrong, apart from any other conside- 
ration whatever; and that an absolute conviction of 
this is fixed upon us in the moral principle or con- 
science, independently of knowledge derived from any 
other source respecting the will or laws of the jilmigh- 
ty. This important distinction has been sometimes 
not unaptly expressed by saying of such actions, not 
that they are right because the Deity has commanded 
them, but that he has commanded them because they 
are right. By this system, therefore, which refers our 
moral impressions to the supreme authority of con- 
science, a principle is disclosed, which, independently 
even of revelation, not only establishes an absolute 
conviction of the laws of moral rectitude, but leads us 
to the impression of moral responsibility and a moral 
Governor; and, as immediately flowing from this, a 
state of future retribution. We have already shown 
this to accord with the declarations of the sacred wri- 
tings, and it is evidently the only system on which we 
can account for that uniformity of moral sentiment 
which is absolutely required for the harmonies of 



What implied in the immutability of moral distinctions as maintained by 
the author? Mode in which this immutability has been sometimes ex- 
pressed 7 Results of this system ? PhenonieuG.- *vhich can be accounted 
for only on this view 7 



SEC. T.J 



THEORIES OF MORALS. 



195 



society. For it is. in fact, on a conviction of this feel- 
ing in ourselves, and of the existence of a similar and 
universal principle in others, that is founded all the 
mutual confidence which keeps mankind together. It 
is this reciprocity of moral feehng that proves a con- 
stant check upon the conduct of men in the daily 
transactions of life; but, to answer this purpose, there 
is evidently reqnired an impression of its uniformity, 
or a conviction that the actions which we disapprove 
in others, will be condemned in us by the unanimous 
decision of other men. It is equally clear that we have 
no such impression of a uniformity of sentiment oa any 
other subject, except on those referable to the class of 
first truths ; and this immediately indicates a marked 
distinction between our moral impressions, and any of 
those conclusions at which we arrive by a process of 
the understanding. It is clear, also, that this uniformi- 
ty can arise from no system, which either refers us 
directly to the will of God, or is liable to be affected 
by the differences which may exist in the judgment, 
the moral taste, the personal feelings, or the interests 
of different individuals. It must be, in itself, fixed 
and immutable, conveying an absolute conviction 
which admits of no doubt and no difference of opinion. 
Such is the great principle of conscience. However its 
warnings may be neglected, and its influence obscured 
by passion and moral degradation, it still asserts its 
claim to s^overn the whole man. " Had it stren2:th,'' 
says Butler, ''as it had right; had it power, as it had 

Evidence that the standa'-T of right and wrong is universal? Have we 
Bny such impression of sac a uniformity of sentiment among men on any 
other sulijects ? — in respect to what class of truths ? Liference from this 1 



196 



THE MORAL PRINCIPLE. 



[part ITL 



manifest authorityj it would absolutely govern the 
world." 

In opposition to this belief of a uniformity of moral 
feeling, much importance has been attached to the 
practices of certain ancient and some barbarous na- 
tions, as the encouragement of theft in Sparta, and the 
exposure of the aged among certain tribes in India. 
Such instances prove no diversity of moral feeling; but 
a difference of practice, arising from certain specialties, 
real or supposed, by which, in the particular cases, the 
influence of the primary moral feeling is, for the time, 
set aside. It is of no importance to the argument, 
whether the disturbing principle thus operating be the 
result of an absurd local policy or a barbarous supersti- 
tion. It is enough that we see a principle, which, in 
point of fact, does thus operate, suspending, in the 
particular instances, the primary moral impression. It 
was not that, in Sparta, there was any absence of 
the usual moral feeling in regard to theft in the ab- 
stract, but that the cultivation of habits of activity 
and enterprise, which arose from the practice, was 
considered as a national object of the highest impor- 
tance, in a small and warlike state, surrounded by 
powerful enemies. It is precisely in the same manner 
that, in individual conduct, a man may be misled by 
passion or by interest to do things which his sober 
judgment condemns. In doing so, there is no want of 

Butler's remark upon the power of conscience ? What argument has been 
adduced against this view? Do these instances really prove a diversity of 
moral feeling ? Explanation of them ? Was it really theft itself which was 
approved by the Spartans ? What was the real object of their approbatiou 
and encouragement? Similar examples in common life ? 



SEC. I.] THEORIES OF MORALS. 197 

the ordinary moral feeling which influences other men; 
but he has brought himself to violate this feeling, for 
certain purposes Avhich he finds to be highly desirable; 
and then, probably, seeks to defend his conduct to the 
satisfaction of his own mind, and of the minds of 
others. He has a distinct perception of what is right, 
while he does what is wrong. There are numerous 
facts which illustrate the same principle, and show the 
recognition of correct moral feelings, even in those who 
habitually and daringly violate them; — as the laws 
of honor and honesty which robbers observe towards 
each other, and the remarkable fidelity of smugglers 
towards their associates. In some of the tribes in the 
South seas. also, most remarkable for their dishonesty, 
it was found, that while they encouraged each other in 
pillaging strangers, theft was most severely punished 
among themselves. Need I farther refer, on this sub- 
ject, to the line of argument adopted in the great ques- 
tion of slavery. It is directed to the paUiating circum- 
stances in the actual state of slavery, not to a broad 
defence of slavery itself. Its object is to show, that 
slavery, under all its present circum.stances. may be 
reconciled with the principles of humanity and justice: 
no attempt is ever made to prove, that it is consistent 
with these principles to tear a human being from his 
country and his kindred, and make him a slave.=^^ 
On this subject we are sometimes triumphantly 

* See this subject eloquentlj^ argued in Dr. ChaJmers' Bridgewatei Trea- 
tise. 



Explanation of them. Example from the habits of thieves and smug- 
glers ? South sea savages ? Argument drawn from the mode in v.vhich 
eJavery is defended ? 

17* 



198 



THE MORAL PRINCIPLE. 



[part III 



asked. Where is the conscience of the inquisitor? as if 
the moral condition of such an individual incontestably 
provedj that there can be no such power as we consider 
conscience to be. But I think it cannot be doubted, 
that, as in the more common cases which have been 
mentioned, the conscience of the inquisitor comes 
gradually to be accommodated to the circumstances in 
which he has voUmtarily placed himself This re- 
markable moral process- has been repeatedly referred 
to. It may originate in various causes. It may arise 
from passion, or an ill-regulated state of the desires or 
affections of the mind; it may arise from motives of 
interest, leading a man by small and gradual steps into 
actions which his sober judgment condemns: or false 
opinions, however received, may be allowed to fasten 
on the mind, until, from want of candid examination, 
they come to be invested with the authority of truth. 
In the moral proce^^ v/hich follows, each single step is 
slight, and its influence almost imperceptible; but this 
influence is perpetuated, and gains strength in each 
succeeding step, until the result is a total derangement 
of the moral harmony of the mind. 

It remains only that we briefly notice the system of 
Dr. Adam Smith, commonly called the theory of Sym- 
pathy. According to this ingenious writer, it is requir- 
ed for our moral sentiments respecting an action, that 
we enter into the feelings both of the agent, and of him 
to whom the action relates. If we sympathize witli 

Case of supposed difficulty ? Author's explanation of the moral state of 
the inquisitor? Vanous ways in which this process of moral deterioration 
may originate ? Manner in which such a process goes on? One remaining 
theory to be noticed ; whose ? Kow designated ? 



SEC. I.] 



THEORIES OF BIORALS. 



199 



the feelings and intentions of the agent, we approve of 
his conduct as right; if not, we consider it as wrong. 
If, in the individual to whom the action refers, v/e 
sympathize with a feeling of gratitude, we regard the 
agent as worthy of praise; if with a feeling of resent- 
ment, the contrary. We thus observe our feehngs 
respecting the conduct of others, in cases in which we 
are not personally concerned, then apply these rules to 
ourselves, and thus judge of our own conduct. This 
very obvious statement, however, of what every man 
feels, does not supply the place of a fundamental rule 
of right and wrong: and indeed Dr. Smith does not 
appear to contend that it does so. It applies only to 
the application of a principle, not to the- origin of it. 
Our sympathy can never be supposed to constitute an 
action right or wrong: but it enables us to apply to 
individual cases a principle of right and wrong derived 
from another source; and to clear our judgment in 
doing so from the blinding influence of those selfish 
feelings by Avhich we are so apt to be misled when we 
apply it directly to ourselves. In estimating our own 
conduct, we then apply to it those conclusions which 
we have made with regard to the conduct of others ; or 
we imagine others applying the same process in regard 
to us, and consider how our conduct would appear to 
an impartial observer. 

This, however, is a most important principle in re- 
gard to our moral decisions, — namely, the process by 



Explain this theon'. Remarks of the author on this theory ? Can our 
sympathy ever constitute an action right or vnrong ? What is its true pro- 
Tince ? Important process of mind arising from these principles ? 



200 



THE BIORAL PRINCIPLE. 



[part hi. 



\Yhich we view an action, or a course of conduct, in 
aiiOther, and then apply the decision to ourselves. 
When the povv^er of moral judgment is obscured or 
deadened in regard to our own conduct, by self-love or 
deranged moral habits, all the correctness of judgment 
is often preserved respecting the actions of others. It 
is thus that men are led on by interest or passion into 
courses of action, which, if viewed calmly and dispas- 
sionately, they would not deliberately defend even in 
themselves, and which, when viewed in others, they 
promptly condemn. This principle is beautifully illus- 
trated in the sacred writings, Avhen the prophet went 
to the king of Israel, and laid before him the hypotheti- 
cal case of a rich man, who had comixiitted an act of 
gross and unfeeling injustice against a poor neighbor. 
The monarch was instantly roused to indignation, and 
pronounced a sentence of severe but righteous ven- 
geance against the oppressor, when the prophet turned 
upon him with the solemn denunciation, "Thou art 
the man." His moral feeling in regard to his own 
conduct was dead; but his power of correct moral de- 
cision when applied to another was undiminished. 

In regard to the whole of this subject, an important 
distinction is to be made between the fundamental 
principle from which actions derive their character of 
right and wrong, and the application of reason in judg- 
ing of their tendencies. Before concluding this part 
of the subject, therefore, we have to add a very few 

Which remains longest unimpaired, a correct moral judgment m respect 
to our own conduct, or in respect to that of others ? Interestmg appeal to 
this principle in the Scriptures ? Who were the parties iu this case 7 Fun- 
damental distinction to be made in considering this whole subject ? 



SEC. I.] 



OFFICE OF REASOxN. 



201 



observations on the influence exerted on our moral 
decisions by reason; always however in subserviency 
to the great principle of conscience. The office of rea- 
son appears to be, in the first place, to judge of the 
expediency, propriety, and consequences of actions, 
which do not involve any feeling of moral duty. In 
regard to the affections, again, a process of reason is 
often necessary, not only respecting the best mode of 
exercising them, but also, in many cases, in deciding 
whether we shall exercise them at all. Thus, we may 
feel compassion in a particular instance, but perceive 
the individual to be so unworthy, that wlmt we could 
do would be of no benefit to him. In such a case we 
may feel it to be a matter not only of prudence, but of 
duty, to resist the aflfection, and to reserve the aid we 
have to bestow for persons m^ore deserving. 

In cases in which an impression of moral duty is 
concerned, an exercise of reason is still, in many in- 
stances, necessary, for enabling us to adapt our means 
to the end which we desire to accomplish. We may 
feel an anxious wish to promote the interest or relieve 
the distress of another, or to perform some high and 
important duty, but call reason to our aid respecting 
the most eff*ectual and the most judicious means of 
doing so. Conscience, in such cases, produces the 
intention, reason suggests the means ; and it is familiar 
to every one that these do not always harmonize. 
Thus a man may be sound in his intentions, who errs 
in judgment respecting the means for carrying them 

Has the reason any important in^uence in our moral decisions ? What is 
primarily its office ? Its office in regard to the affections ? Example. Ano- 
'her point in respect to wliich exercise of reason is necessary? Example 
jlliistmring this ? 



202 



THE MORAL PRINCIPLE. 



[part III. 



into effect. In such cases, we attach our feeiing of 
moral approbation to the intention only; we say the 
man meant well, but erred in judgment: and to this 
error we alhx no feeling of moral disapprobation, un- 
less, perhaps, in some cases, we may blame him for 
acting precipitately on his own judgment, instead of 
taking the advice of those qualified to direct him. We 
expect such a man to acquire wisdom from experience, 
by observing the deficiency of his judgment in refe- 
rence to his intentions; and, in future instances, to 
learn to take advice. There are other circumstances 
in which an exercise of reason is frequently brought 
into action in regard to moral decisions: — as in some 
cases in v%^hich one duty appears to interfere with 
another; likewise in judging whether, in particular 
instances, any rule of duty is concerned, or v/hether 
we are at liberty to take up the case simply as one 
of expediency or utility. In making their decisions in 
doubtful cases, of this description, we observe great 
differences in the habits of judging in different indi- 
viduals. One shows the most minute and scrupulous 
anxiety to discover whether the case involves any 
principle of duty, and a similar anxiety in acting 
suitably when he has discovered it. This is what we 
call a strictly conscientious man. Another, who shows 
no want oi a proper sense of duty when the line is 
clearly drawn, has less anxiety in such cases as these, 
and may sacrifice minute or doubtful points to some 
other feeling, as self-interest, or even friendship, where 

Distincticn between the intentions and the means of effecting ih^^iv: 7 
Which of these is alone the object of moral disajDprobation ? Other circum 
stances in which an exercise of the reason is necessary ? Different habit* ♦ 
of judging ? 



SEC. I.] 



OFFICE OF REASON. 



203 



the former individual might have discovered a princi- 
ple of duty. 

Reason is also concerned in judging of a description 
of cases, in which a modification of moral feeUng arises 
from the complexity of actions, or, in other words, 
from the circumstances in which the individual is 
placed. This may be illustrated by the difference of 
moral sentiment which we attach to the act of taking 
away the life of another, when this is done by an in- 
dividual under the impulse of revenge, by the same 
individual in self-defence, or by a judge in the dis- 
charge of his public duty. 

There is still another office frequently assigned to 
reason in moral decisions, — as when we speak of a 
man acting upon reason as opposed to passion. This 
however is, correctly speaking, only a different use of 
the term ; and it means that he acts upon a calm con- 
sideration of the motives by which he ought to be in- 
fluenced, instead of being hurried avv^ay by a desire or 
un affection which has been allowed to usurp undue 
influence. 

The important distinction, therefore, which these 
observations have been intended to illustrate, may be 
briefly recapitulated in the following manner. Our 
impression of the aspect of actions, as right "r wrong, 
is conveyed by a principle in the human mind entirely 
distinct from a simple exercise of reason; and the stand- 
ard of moral rectitude derived from this source is, in 

Exercise of reason in respect to complex actions ? Does the character of 
liii act depend upon the circumstances attending it ? Illustrations. Another 
office frequently assigned to reason ? Recapitulation of the great distinc 
iion brought forward in this discussion ? 



204 



THE MORAL PRINCIPLE. 



[part 111 



its own nature, fixed and immutable. But there are 
many cases in which an exercise of reason may be 
employed in referring particular actions to this stan- 
dard, or trying them, as it were, by means of it. Any 
such mental process, however, is only to be considered 
as a kind of test applied to individual instances, and 
must not be confounded with the standard to which it 
is the office of this test to refer them. Right or virtu- 
ous conduct does, in point of fact, contribute to general 
utility, as well as to the advantage of the individual, 
il 'the true and extended sense of that term, and these 
tendencies are perceived by reason. But it is neither 
of these that constitutes it right. This is founded en- 
tirely on a different principle, — the immutable rule of 
moral rectitude ; it is perceived by a different part of 
our constitution, — the moral principle, or conscience ; 
and, by the operation of this principle, we pronounce 
it right, without any reference to its consequences 
either to ourselves or others. 

I cannot perceive what is gained by those who refer 
our moral decisions to a process of reason or judgment 
a.lone. For by judgment, in the ordinary and recog- 
nised acceptation of the term, I can understand nothing 
more than a power of comparing two or more facts or 
impressions together, and tracing their relations. . When 
we apply such a mental process to a question of morals, 
it can amount to nothing more than a comparison of 
our conduct with some standard. If those who hold 



Is virtuous conduct, in point of fact, conducive to utility ? Is this utility 
what constitutes it virtuous conduct? Upon v/hat is this founded? and how 
js it perceived ? Nature and province of the judgment? 



SEC. I.] 



THE MORAL PKINCIPLE. 



205 



^ the doctrine referred to mean any thing more than this, 
if they allow the mind a power of moral decision indo- 
}>endently of any such standard, then this is precisely 
what we mean by conscience, and the controversy re- 
solves itself, like not a few that have gone before it. 
into a dispnte about a name. If they do not allow the 
mind such a power, it then becomes them to say, what 
is the standard by which its moral judgments are to be 
formed, and whence is it derived. It appears. I think, 
distinctly, lhat it can be derived only from one of two 
sources. It must either be recei^^ed through div. e 
revelation : or it mast be the result of our speculations 
respecting utilit}', in one or other of tlie forms in which 
that doctrine is presented to us. There does not ap- 
pear to be any middle course: and accordingly, some 
late writers, who reject the latter system, Vv'-hile they 
do not admit the authority of conscience, seem to refer 
our moral impressions entirely to the will of the Deity 
as made known to us by revelation. I have formerly 
stated what seem to me to be insuperable objections to 
this doctrine. It appears, indeed, to be distinctly op- 
posed by the very words of Scripture, which clearly 
recognise a power, or a process in the mind, by which 
''those who are without law,'' that is. without a reve- 
lation, --area law unto themselves, their consciences 
bearing witness, and their thoughts accusing or else 
excusing one another.*' 

What can it amount to when applied to a question of morals ? ]Must 
there not be necessarily a standard to which the judgment can refer moral 
actions ? From what two sources only can such a standard be derived, if not 
furnished by a moral sense ? What difficulty in the way of supposing that 
ne Scriptures themselves furnish this standard ? 

.18 



206 



THE MORAL PRINCIPLE. 



[part til 



^ 2.— OF THE HARMONY OF THE MORAL 
FEELINGS. 

On whatever system we may consider the moral 
foehngs, we perceive that there are various classes of 
them, each answering a special purpose, in our rela- 
tions as accountable beings. Some of them, we have 
seen, refer to objects of desire, the attainment of which 
appears likely to bring satisfaction. Others lead us to 
those relations which we bear to our fellow-men. A 
third class, which remains to be considered, calls our 
attention to the relation in which we stand to the 
moral governor of the universe, and to a certain regu- 
lation of the moral feelings arising out of this relation. 
But there is still another inquiry of the deepest interest, 
connected with this subject, namely, regarding the 
harmony or principle of arrangement, which these va- 
rious classes of moral emotions ought to bear towards 
each other. They all form parts of our constitution, 
and deserve a certain degree of attention, which must 
be carefully adapted to the relative importance of each ; 
and the correct adjustment of this harmony is one of 
the objects to be answered by the moral principle, 
combined with a sound exercise of judgment. The 
rules which apply to it may be stated in the following 
manner. 

When we consider man as an immortal being, pass- 
ing through a course of discipline to another state of 
existence, it is obvious that his highest consideration 
is his own moral condition, and the aspect in which he 

Various classes of moral feelings ? Three great classes 7 What inquiry 
now arises, connected Avith this subject ? 



SEC. IT.] HARMONY OF THE MORAL FEELINGS. 



207 



stands towards the Deity. In immediate connection 
with this first of all concerns are the great and general 
principles of justice and veracity, as referring to our 
connection with all mankind, and a class of private 
responsibilities which peculiarly regard each individual 
in his domestic relations; such as the duties of children 
to their parents, and parents to their children; — tlie 
latter, particularly, presenting a class of the most 
solemn kind, as it embraces the concerns of the present 
life, and of that which is to come. Then follow the 
duties of benevolence, friendship, and patriotism; after 
these, the ordinary avocations of life, as the acquisition 
of knowledge and the pursuits of business; and final- 
ly, those personal recreations and enjoyments, which, 
when kept in their proper place, are legitimate and ne- 
cessary to every human being. These are all proper 
and laudable, provided they are kept in a proper sub- 
serviency to each other. But the important conside- 
ration is, that a man may be acting unworthily of his 
moral nature, when he devotes himself to any one of 
them in a manner which encroaches upon the harmony 
of the whole. 

To begin with the lowest of them ; it is unnecessary 
to state how this remark apphes to the man whose life 
is devoted to pursuits which rank no higher than re- 
creation or amusement. It must be obvious to every 
one of the smallest degree of reflection, that such a 
man is living only for the present life. What cannot 

The first and highest object of consideration for man, in respect to hia 
moral dunes 7 Great class of moral duties coming in immediate connection 
wiih this ? Class of private responsibilities coming next ? What class fol- 
'ows these ? The last class ? Obligation in respect to them all taken in 
connection? Example of undue interest in one class of these duties ? 



208 



THE MOilAL PraNC/PLE. 



[PAilT 



be denied of mere amusemeiitj must also be admitted 
respecting a life of business, however important in 
themselves the concerns may be which engross the 
mind. They still refer only to present things, and 
carry not the thoughts beyond the moment which 
bounds the period of moral discipline. Even the en- 
gagements of benevolence and public usefulness, esti- 
mable as they are, may be allowed to usurp an im- 
proper place; and they do so, if they withdraw the 
attention from responsibilities and duties which belong 
more particularly to ourselves as individuals, — such 
as the duties of parents and of children, — and the other 
claims which arise out of the relations of domestic life. 
Finally, it is ever to be kept in mind, that no engage- 
ments of any description must be allowed to interfere 
with obligations of the highest interest to ever}^ man,- — 
those which relate to his own moral condition, in the 
sight of him who is now his witness, and will soon be 
his Judge. From want of due attention to this con- 
sideration, year after year glides over us, and life 
hastens to its close, amid cares and toils and anxieties 
which relate only to the present world. Thus fame 
maybe acquired, or wealth accumulated; or, after a 
laborious ascent, a man may have gained the height 
of ambition, when the truth bursts upon him that life 
is nearly over, while its great business is yet to begin, 
— the preparation of the moral being for an eternal ex- 
istence. 



Character and condition of such a man? Can any of the higher classes 
of duties usurp an improper place? How may the duties of benevolence da 
this ? General principle in relation to the ascendency of religious duty ? 
Condition and prospects of the man who neglects his religious duty ? 



SEC. II. j HARMONY OF THK MORAL FLELIXGS. 



209 



It is scarcely necessary to add, on the other hand, 
that attention to this first of all concerns must not be 
allowed to estrange the mind from the various duties 
and responsibilities of active life. It is only, indeed, 
when the conduct is regulated by partial and unsound 
motives, that some of these objects of attention are 
allowed to usurp the place of others. He who acts, 
not from the high principles- of moral duty, but from a 
desire of notoriety, or the applause of men, may devote 
himself to much benevolence and usefiihiess of a public 
and ostensible kind; while he neglects duties of a high- 
er, though more private nature, and overlooks entirely, 
it may be, his own moral condition. The ascetic, on 
the contrary, shuts himself up in his cell, and imagines 
that he pleases God by meditation and voluntary aus- 
terities. But this is not the part of him who truly feels 
his varied relations, and correctly estimates his true 
responsibilities. It is striking, also, to remark, how 
the highest principles lead to a character of harmony 
and consistency, which all inferior motives fail entirely 
in producing. The man, who estimates most deeply 
and correctly his own moral relations to an ever-present 
and presiding Deity, will also feel his way through the 
various duties of life, with a degree of attention adapt- 
ed to each of them. In the retirements of domestic 
life, he is found in the anxious discharge of the high 
responsibilities which arise out of its relations. He is 
found in the path of private benevolence and public 
usefulness, manifesting the kind and brotherly interest 

Caution on ilie other hand? In what case only is there dans^-er of this ? 
Difference between the higher and the inferior principles of action, in respect 
to the character which they tend to form ? 



210 



THE MORAL PRINCIPLE. 



[part III 



of one who acts on the purest of all motives, — the love 
of God, and a prmciple of devotedness to his service. 
Whether exposed to the view of his fellow-men, or 
seen only by Him who seeth in secret,- his conduct is 
the same; for the principles on which he acts have, in 
both situations, equal influence. In the ordinary con- - 
cerns of life, the power of these principles is equally || 
obvious. Whether he engage in its business, or par- 
take of its enjoyments; whether he encounter its diffi- 
culties, or meet its pains, disappointments, and sorrows; 
he walks through the whole with the calm dignity of 
one who views all the events of the present life in their 
imunediate reference to a life which is to come. 

The high consistency of character, which results 
from this regulated condition of the moral feelings, 
tends thus to promote a due attention to the various 
responsibilities connected with the situation in which 
the individual is placed. It does so, by leading him, 
with anxious consideration, to feel his way through 
these requirements, and to recognise the supreme au- 
thority of conscience over his whole moral system. It 
does so, especially, by habitually raising his views to 
the eternal One, who is the witness of all his conduct, 
and to whom he is responsible for his actions in each 
relation of life. It thus tends to preserve him from all 
those partial and inconsistent courses, into Avhich men 
are led by the mere desire of approbation, or love of 



Effect of religious principle on the conduct and character? Its influence 
on the ordinary pursuits of life ? Effect of this consistency of character ? 
Two ways by which it produces these effects ? Froni what dangers does it 
iefend men ? 



SEC. II.] HAR3I0NY OF THE MORAL FEELINGS. 211 

distinction, or by any other of those inferior motives 
which are reaUy resolvable into self-love. 

Such uniformity of moral feeling is equally opposed 
to another distortion of character, not less at variance 
with a sound condition of the mind. This is what may 
be called religious pretension, showing itself by much 
zeal for particular opinions and certain external ob- 
servances, while there is no corresponding influence 
upon the moral feelings and the character. The truths 
which form the great object of religious belief are of so 
momentous a kind, that, when they are really believed, 
thej^ cannot fail to produce effects of the most decided 
and most extensive nature; and where this influence 
is not steadily exhibited, there is a fatal error in the 
moral economy, — there is either self-deception, or an 
intention to deceive others. From such inconsistency 
of character arises an evil, which has a most injurious 
influence upon two descriptions of persons! Those of 
one class are led to assign an undue importance to the 
profession of a peculiar creed and the mere externals 
of religion — to certain observances which are consider- 
ed as characteristic of a particular party, and to absti- 
nence from certain indulgences or pursuits which tliat 
party disapprove. Those of the other class, finding, 
in many instances, much zeal for these peculiarities, 
without a state of moral feeling adapted to the truths 
which are professed, are apt to consider the whole as 
either pretence or delusion. 



Another faulty trait to which this harmony of character is opposed ? The 
genuine influence of religious truth ? Vvhen this effect is not produced how 
must we account for it ? Two classes of persons injuriously affected Iry thif 
inconsistency of character ? 



212 



THE MORAL PRINCIPLE. 



[part III. 



In their mutual error there is to both matter of im- 
portant warning. It becomes the latter to beware, lest, 
misled by the failings of weak or inconsistent men. 
they withdraw their attention from truths of solemn 
import to themselves as moral beings. There m^ay be 
much pretension where there is no real feeling; but are 
they from this entitled to infer, there is not a reality in 
that which these pretenders counterfeit? By a shght 
gilding, articles of trifling value are made to assume 
the appearance of gold; but would it be reasonable to 
contend, that there are no articles of intrinsic worth 
which these are made to imitate ? The fair induction 
is, in both instances, the opposite. Were there no such 
articles of pure gold, this ingenuity would not be em- 
ployed in fabricating base imitations; and the hypocrite 
would not assume qualities he does not possess, were 
there not real virtues, from a resemblance to which he 
hopes to procure for his character that ostensible value 
which may enable it to deceive. But let those who 
have detected this deception beware of founding upon 
it conchisions which it does not warrant. They have 
not found the reality here, but there is not the less a 
pure and high standard which claims their utmost re- 
gard. If they search for it either among inconsistent 
or among designmg men, they seek the living among 
the dead. Let them contemplate it especially as it is 
displayed in the character of the Messiah : in him it 
was exhibited in a manner which demands the imiita- 

Caution to be given to the latter? Is the existence of the counterfeit any 
proof that there is no reality? The author's illustration of this subject? 
What is in fact the fair inference from the existence of a counterfeit ? False 
conclusion founded upon the discovery of such deception ? W^here are we 
to look for the real standard of moral excellence? 



SEC. IT. J HARMONY OF THE MORAL F-EELINGS. 213 

tioa of every rational man, while it challenges the cor- 
dial assent of the most acute understanding, that this 
IS the perfection of a moral being. 

Oil the other hand, let those, who profess to be in- 
fluenced by the.highest of all motives, study to exhibit 
their habitual influence in a consistent uniformity of 
the whole character. It is easy to acquire a peculiar 
phraseology, to show much zeal for peculiar opinions, 
and rigid attention to peculiar observances; and, among 
a party, it is not diflicult to procure a name, by con- 
demning certain other compliances which by them are 
technically styled the manners of the world. But all 
this, it is evident, may be assumed: it may be, and 
probably often is, no better than a name; it often 
amounts to nothing more than substituting one kind 

excitement for another, while the moral being con- 
inues unchanged. True religion is seated in the heart, 
and sends out from thence a purifying influence over 
the whole character. In its essential nature it is a 
contest within, open only to the eye of Him Avho seeth 
ui secret. It seeks not, therefore, the applause of men; 
and it shrinks from that spurious religionism whose 
prominent characters are talk, and pretension, and ex- 
ternal observance, often accompanied by uncharitaoie 
censure. Like its divine pattern, it is meek and lowly, 
''it is pure and peaceable, gentle and easy to be en- 
treated, full of mercy and of good fruits, without par- 
tiality, and without hypocrisy." It aims not at an 
ostentatious display of principles, but at a steady exhi- 



Caution to the other class? Ease with which the semblance of religion 
may be assumed ? The true seat, and the proper influence of real religion ? 
Its characteristics as described in the Scriptures? 



214 THE MORAL PRINCIPLE. [PART lU. 

bition of fruits. Qualities which it cultivates with es- 
pecial care, are humility, and charity, and mercy, the 
mortification of every selfish passion, and the denial 
of every selfish indulgence. When thus exhibited in 
its true and genuine characters, it commands the re- 
spect of every sound understanding, and challenges the 
assent of all to its reality and its truth, as the highest 
principle that can regulate the conduct of a moral 
being. 



T^e traits of character which it tends to form 1 



PART III. 



OF THE MORAL RELATION OF MAN 
TOWARDS THE DEITY. 



The healthy state of a moral being is strikingly refer- 
red, in the sacred writings, to three great heads. — ^jus- 
tice, benevolence, and a conformity of the moral feelings 
to a reverential sense of the presence and perfections of 
tlie Deity; "to do justly, to love mercy, and to walk 
humbly with thy God." The two former of these 
considerations lead us to the duties which a mcin owes 
to his fellow-men ; the latter calls our attention to that 
homage of the mind and of the heart which he owes 
peculiarly to God. For the duties of the former class 
we are equally responsible to him, as the moral govern- 
or of the universe, but their immediate reference is to 
our connections with other men; those of the larrer 
class respect our relation to the Deity himself, and 
consequently consist, in a great measure, in the purity 
and devotedness of the mind. In human systems of 

Recapitulate the general plan of this work as given at the commencement. 
What branch of it comes now to be treated of? Three great heads to wLicl 
moral duty is referred in the Scriptures ? 



216 



THE MORAL RELATION OF MAN [PART IV 



ethics, attention has been chiefly directed to the obHga- 
tions of social and relative morality: but the two classes 
are closely associated in the sacred writings; and the 
sound condition of the moral feelings is pointed out as 
that acquirement which, along with a corresponding 
integrity of character, qualifies man, in an especial 
manner, for intercourse with the Deity. Who shall 
ascend into the hill of the Lord, or who shall stand in 
his holy place? He that hath clean hands and a pure 
heart, who hath not lifted up his soul unto vanity, nor 
sworn deceitfully.'' ^'Blessed are the pure in heart, for 
they shall see God." 

Such declarations challenge the assent and absolute 
conviction of every sound understanding. Are we, as 
responsible creatures, placed in immediate relation to a 
great moral governor, a being of infinite purity and 
boundless perfections? is the structure of our bodies, 
and the still more wonderful fabric of our minds, alike 
the Avork of his hand? then it is impossible to put away 
from us the impression, that each movement of these 
minds must be fully exposed to his inspection. It is 
equally impossible to repel from us the solemn truth, 
that it is by the desires, the feelings, and the motives 
of action which exist there, that our condition is to be 
estimated in his sight; and that a man, whose conduct 
to his fellow-men does not violate propriety and justice, 
may be in a state of moral degradation in the eyes of 
him whoseeth in secret; ^-for,'' says the Sacred writer, 



To which of these heads has the attention heen chiefly directed in human 
treatises? View which the Bible takes of the subject. Quotations? Cou- 
siderations showing the reasonableness of this? / 



PART IV.J 



TOWARDS THE DEITY. 



217 



^•man looketh on the outward appearance, but iho 
Lord looketh on the heart." 

There cannot, therefore, be an inquiry of more in- 
tense interest, than what is that condition of the heart 
and of the mind which every man ought to seek after, 
when he considers himself as exposed to the continual 
inspection of the Almighty. It may, perhaps, be brief- 
ly referred to the following heads. 

I. A habitual effort to cultivate a sense of the divine 
presence, and a habitual desire to have the Avhole 
moral condition regulated by this impression. It im- 
plies, therefore, sacred respect to the character of the 
Deity, and is opposed to every kind of profaneness, or 
aught by which one might weaken, in himself or 
others, the reverential feeling due towards the charac- 
ter, and even the name of the Almighty. This must 
be extended not to the outward conduct alone, but to 
the desires and affections of the heart. There is a state 
of mind, formerly referred to, in which a desire, which 
the moral feelings disapprove, may not be followed by 
volition; while the desire is still indulged^ and the 
mind is allowed to cherish it with some feeling of re- 
gret; or even to luxuriate with a sense of pleasure in 
the imaginary gratification. In the same manner, a 
malevolent affection to our fellow-men may be checked 
from producing injurious conduct, while the feeling 
still rankles in the heart, in the form of envy or hatred. 
These mental conditions, while they are widely at va- 

Groal and important inquiry arising from this view of the subject ? First 
^reat duty ? How much is implied in a constant sense of the divine pre- 
sence ? Can the soul be in a state of guilt, while there is no outwrard guilty 
action ? How ? 

19 



/ 



218 THE MORAL RELATION OF MAN PART IV.] 

riance with the healthy state of a rational and respon- 
sible being, must be regarded by the Deity as consti- 
tuting moral guilt and moral degradation. Nor is it 
only on the mind which cherishes malevolent passions 
and impure desires and imaginations, that the Holy 
Cue must look with a feeling of condemnation. There 
may be another mental condition, in which the thoughts 
and desires are directed to transient and frivolous ob- 
jects, and thus run to waste amid the trifles of the 
passing hour, without any feeling of the truths and 
motives which demand the attention of moral beings. 
The pursuits of such a man may have nothing in them 
that is referable either to impure desire or malevolent 
affection. They may be the acquisition of wealth, the 
grasp after power, the love of distinction, or a devoted- 
ness to merely trivial occupations; while there is a 
total neglect of those great concerns which really de- 
mand our chief and highest regard. Amid the legiti- 
mate and even the laudable pursuits of ordinary life, 
we are too apt to lose sight of those duties and respon- 
sibilities which attend a state of moral discipline, and 
that culture of the soul required as a preparation for 
the future state of existence to which we are hastening. 
But we cannot doubt that these considerations bear an 
important aspect in the eye of the Deity; and that the 
mind in which they hold not a habitual influence is 
contemplated by him as in a state of moral destitution. 

There are, accordingly, two classes of characters 
clearly pointed out in the sacred writings, — namely, 



In what other way may there be sin in the direction of the thoughts and 
desires '? Great danger to which we are always exposed in the commoo 
duties of life? 



PART rv.J 



TOWARDS THE DEITY. 



219 



one in wliom the outward conduct indicates the de- 
pravity within, and another, in whom the external 
character preserves a respectable aspect in the estima- 
tion of men, while the moral feelings are in a corrupted 
condition in the sight of God. We have formerly 
endeavored to trace the laws to which this fact is to 
be referred, on the principles of the philosophy of the 
human mind: they are chiefly two. (1.) We have 
seen that there are orig nal principles in our nature, 
which lead to a certain exercise of justice, veracity, 
and benevolence, independently of any recognition of 
divine authority. They are a part of our moral consi-i- 
tution, and calculated to promote important purposes 
in the harmony of human society; and they carry along 
with them a certain principle of reciprocal compensa- 
tion, which is entirely distinct from any impression of 
their moral aspect. The man who is deficient in them, 
indeed, incurs guilt, but a certain discharge of them 
may arise from mere natural, or even selfish feeling, 
unconnected with any sense of responsibility ; and this 
consequently conveys no impression of moral approba- 
tion. In the very exercise of them a man receives his 
reward, partly by a feeling of satisfaction, Avhich, from 
the constitution of his nature, they are calculated to 
yield, and partly as a member of that community 
where they promote peace, and order, and harmony; 
and he is not entitled to look farther, or to claim from 



Two classes of characters pointed out in the Scriptures ? Fis-^t considera- 
tion in explanation of this ? Great leading feature in the constitution of 
man, in respect to moral principles ? Can there be a deficiency of these 
principles without guilt? Does a compliance with them always awaken 
moral approbatioa towards the individual ? \^ by not ? Present reward foi 
Ihe exercise of them ? 



220 THE MORAL RELATION OF MAN [pART IV. 

them any feeling of merit in the sight of the Deity 
(2.) A second principle, which bears an important re- 
lation to this subject, is the manner in which a man's 
character is influenced by the particular motive or 
pursuit to which he has resigned the guidance of his 
conduct. One surrenders himself to the animal pro- 
pensities, and becomes a selfish profligate, insensible 
to every right principle of action, while his depraved 
condition is obvious to a.11 around him. A second de-- 
votes himself to ambition; and a third to avarice: these 
ruling passions, it may be, are found to be adverse to 
the selfish indulgence and open profligacy of the for- 
mer; and a character may arise out of them distin- 
guished by much that is decent, and respectable, and 
worthy of approbation in the eye of man. In a fourth, 
the ruling motive may be the desire of esteem and 
approbation; and this may, and often does, become a 
principle of such influence, as to overpower, in a great 
measure, the selfi3h propensities, and to produce a 
character estimable not onlj^ for justice and veracity, 
but a high degree of active benevolence. Such a man 
sacrifices to his ruling passion much that might be 
turned to the purposes of ambition, avarice, or selfish 
indulgence, by those who are guided by these propen- 
sities; and, in doing so, he has his reward. He finds 
it in the gratification of that principle which in him 
has become predominant; and, rather than forfeit the 
esteem of those whose approbation he values, he will 
submit to much personal exertion, and sacrifice much 



Second consideration. Various objects of pursuit. Way in T7hich a 
greot ruling motive may influence the character? May t lie character and 
conduct be thus improved v,'ithout any recognition of divine authority ? 



PART IV.] 



TOWARDS THE DEITY. 



221 



selfish advantage, which others might deem highly 
worthy of attainment. But all this may go on without 
any recognition of divine authority; and may all exist 
in a man in whom there is much impurity of desire, 
and much deficiency of moral feeling. It is all refera- 
ble to a motive of a personal nature, and, in the grati- 
fication of this, his ruling principle is satisfied. 

The state of mind which is under the influence of a 
habitual sense of the divine presence may, therefore, 
be considered under two relations, — the one referring 
more immediately to the Deity, the other to our fellow- 
men. The former seems chiefly to include an effort to 
have ev^ery desire, thought, and imagination of the heart, 
regulated by a sense of the presence and the purity of 
God, and in conformity to his will. Amid much feel- 
ing of deficiency in these respects, it leads our attention 
to that interesting mental condition, in which there is 
I a contest and a warfare within, and a prevailing oppo- 
sition to every thing that is at variance with the purity 
of a moral being. The second division includes the 
cultivation of feelings of kindness and benevolence 
towards all men; — the love of justice, the love of truth, 
the love of peace, the forgiveness of injuries, the morti- 
fication of selfishness; in a word, the earnest and habi- 
tual desire to promote the comfort and alleviate the 
distresses of others. From these two mental conditions 
must spring a character, distinguished alike by piety 
towards God, and by high integrity, benevolence, and 
active usefulness towards man. He who earnestly 



Is the motive a selfish one after all ? Two relations under which the ha- 
bitual sense of the presence of the Deity is to be considered ? Effects result* 
Jig from the former? Efiects resulting from the latter ? 
19^ 



222 



THE MORAL RELATION OF MAN 



[part IV, 



cultivates this purity within, feels that he requires 
continual watchfulness^ and a constant direction of the 
mind to those truths and moral causes which are calcu- 
lated to influence his volitions. He feels farther that 
he is in need of a might not his own in this high de- 
sign; but for this he knows also he can look, with 
humble confidence and hope, when, under a sense of 
moral weakness, he asks its ppwerful aid. 

11. A humble and dutiful submission to the appoint- 
ments of Providence, as part of a great system which 
is regulated by infinite wisdom. The man, who bears 
upon his mind this sublime impression, has learnt to 
contemplate the Almighty One as disposing of the 
events of the lower world, and assigning to each of his 
rational creatures the place which he occupies. That 
place, whatever it may be, he perceives has attached 
to it ^special duties and responsibilities, and calls for 
the cultivation of moral qualities peculiarly adapted to 
it. Is it one of comfort, wealth, or influence, — solemn 
obhgations arise out of the means of usefulness which 
these command. Is it one of humble life, privation, or 
actual suffering, — each of these also has its peculiar 
duties, and each is to be contemplated as belonging to 
a great system of moral discipline, in which no part 
can be wanting in consistency with the harmony of the 
whole. Such a submission of the soul to the appoint- 
ments of God does not preclude the use of all legitimate 
means for bettering our condition, or for preventing or 

Character resulting from the two ? Second great duty in respect to God ? 
View which the religious man takes of God's superintending providence ? 
Various duties arising out of the various stations of life? Does submission 
to the will of God discourage exertion ? 



PART IV.] 



TOWARDS THE DEITY. 



223 



removing sources of distress. But when, under the 
proper use of such means, these are not removed, it 
leads us habitually to that higher power, to whose will 
all such attempts must be subservient; and. while it 
elevates our thoughts above present events and second 
causes, it reminds us of that great scheme of discipline 
through which we are passing, and the purposes which 
these events are calculated to promote in our own moral 
improvement. Viewed under such feelings, the ills of 
hfe lose that aspect in which we are too apt to contem- 
plate them; and will be considered with new and 
pecuhar interest, as essential to that system, the great 
object of v/hich is to prepare and purify us for a higher 
state of being. 

III. A sense of moral imperfection and guilt, and 
that humility and devout self-abasement which arise 
out of it. This must be a prominent feeling in every 
one whu views his own conduct, and his mental emo- 
tions, in reference to the purity of God. It naturally 
leads to supplication for his mercy and forgiveness; 
and. in the wondrous display of his character, given 
in the sacred writings, a provision is disclosed, in vir- 
tue of which the exercise of mercy is made consistent 
with the truth and justice of a moral governor. This 
dispensation of peace we find habitually represented as 
adapted to man in a state of spiritual destitution; and 
no mental condition is more frequently referred to, as 
acceptable with the Deity, than that which consists of 



What is its proper infiuence ? ElTect ol" it upon our view of the ills of life? 
Third great duty of religion ? The result to which this feeling leads ? Con 
tritiou, how regarded in the sight of God ? 



224 



THE BIORAL RELATION OF MAN [PART IV. 



contrition and lowliness of mind. "Thus sayeth the 
high and lofty One that inhabiteth eternity, whose 
name is Holy; I dwell in the high and holy place, 
with him also that is of a contrite and humble spirit, 
to revive the spirit of the humble, and to revive the 
heart of the contrite ones." With this state of mind 
is very naturally associated a sense of moral weakness, 
and a constant reliance on divine aid, both for direction 
through life, and for the culture of the moral being. 

IV. It is only necessary to add, a profound sense of 
gratitude and love towards the Deity as the giver of 
all good, as our daily preserver and benefactor. These 
feelings will have a special reference to the display 
which he has given of his character, as merciful, gra- 
cious, and slow to anger; and to the provision which 
he has made for the recovery and restoration of his 
fallen creatures, through "God manifest in the flesh.'' 
Of this divine person, and the work which he came to 
accomplish, philosophy presumes not to speculate; but 
we have seen the light afforded, by the inductions of 
moral science, respecting the probabihty of this revela- 
tion, and its adaptation to the actual state of man in 
his relation to the Deity. We have seen the imprersion 
conveyed by the character of the Messiah, considered 
merely as matter of historical truth, exhibiting such a 
pattern as never appeared in our world, except in him, 
of a pure and perfect moral being. We have seen, 
farther, the incontrovertible nature of that evidence. 



duotation. Fourth great d«ty. What should be the great subject of tht 
gratitude of men ? Can philosophy give us any light respecting this great 
transaction ? Does philosophy furnish us any presumption in its favor ? 



PART IV.] 



TOWARDS THE DEITY. 



225 



transmitted by testimony, and confirmed, as it is, in a 
very peculiar manner, by periodical observances, on 
which the whole revelation is supported; and the in- 
ductions of sound philosophy harmonize with the im- 
pressions of the man, who, feeling his own moral 
necessities, yields his cordial assent to this mystery of 
God, and seeks in its provisions his peace in the life 
that now is, and his hope for the life that is to corne. 

From the whole mental condition, thus slightly de- 
lineated, there will naturally arise a character and con- 
duct adapted to the feelings and principles which rule 
within. This imphes, as we have seen, a due regula- 
tion of the desires, and a habitual direction of them to 
objects of real and adequate importance; a diligent 
• cultivation and exercise of all the affections; and a 
conduct distinguished, in the highest degree, by purity, 
integrity, veracity, and active benevolence. It implies 
a profound submission to the will of the Almighty, 
which puts to silence every murmuring or repining 
thought under any dispensation of his providence. It 
comprehends the habitual suppression of every selfish 
principle, and the constant aspiration after a state of 
moral feeling, which proposes to itself no lower stan- 
dard than that which will bear the inspection of a 
being of infinite purity. This character seems to cor- 
respond with that high tone of morals enjoined in the 
sacred writings. Its elements are defined and clear. 
Would we seek to estimate its sublimity and its truth. 



Evidence on which the reception of a Savior is grounded? The character 
resulting from these principles ? Its leading traits? Its great ruling prii- 
tiple? 



226 



* THE MORAL RELATION OF MAN [PART IV. 



we have only to compare it with those distorted and 
temporizing sj^stems which have resulted from the 
inventions of men. A feeling of dissatisfaction, the 
same in kind, though it may differ in degree, will at- 
tach to them all; and there is none in which we can 
confidently rest, until we rise to the sublime morality 
of the gospel. That great system of ethical purity 
comes to us under the sanction of divine revelation, 
and established by the miraculous evidence by which 
the proof of this is conveyed; but it is independent of 
any other support than that which it carries in itself, — 
consistency with the character of God, and harmony 
with the best feelings of man. In yielding an absolute 
consent to its supreme authority, we require no exter- 
nal evidence. We have only to look at the record in 
its own majestic simplicity, tried by the highest induc- 
tions of the philosophy of the moral feelings, to enable 
us to point to the morality of the gospel, and to say 
with unshrinking confidence, this is truth. 

If we would seek for that which must be of all con- 
ceivable things of the highest moment both for the 
peace and the improvement of the moral being, it is to 
be found in the habit of mind, in which there is the 
uniform contemplation of the divine character, with a 
constant reliance on the guidance of the Almighty in 
every action of life. ''One thing," says an inspired 
writer, ''have I desired of the Lord, that will I seek 
after; that I may dwell in the house of the Lord all the 



Can a character truly excellent be formed on any lower principles ? Dou- 
ble evidence in favor of the ethical system of revelation? Would the inter- 
na! evidence be sufficient of itself v/ithout the external? What state of 
mind furnishes the highest means of mental peace and moral improvement ? 
Quotation fvoin the Sciiptnres ? 



PART. IV.] 



TOWARDS THE DEITY. 



227 



days of my life, to behold the beauty of the Lord, and 
to inquire in his temple." The man who thus cuUi- 
vates the habitual impression of the divine presence, 
lives in an atmosphere peculiarly his own. The storms 
which agitate the lower world may blow around or 
beneath, but they touch not him; as the traveller has 
seen from the mountain's top the war of elements be- 
low, while he stood in unclouded sunshine. In the 
works, and ways, and perfections of the Eternal One, 
he finds a subject of exalted contemplation, in compari- 
son with which the highest inquiries of human science 
sink into insignificance. It is an exercise, also, which 
tends at once to elevate and to purify the mind. It 
raises us from the minor concerns and transient inter- 
ests which are so apt to occupy us, to that wondrous 
field in which ^-worlds on worlds compose one uni- 
verse/' and to that mind which bade them move in 
their appointed orbits, and maintains them all in unde- 
viating harmony. While it thus teaches us to bend in 
humble adoration before a wisdom which we cannot 
fathom, and a power which we cannot comprehend, it 
directs our attention to a display of moral attributes 
which at once challenge our reverence and demand our 
imitation. By thus leading us to compare ourselves 
with the supreme excellence, it tends to produce true 
humilit}^, and, at the same time, that habitual aspiration 
after moral improvement which constitutes the highest 
state of man. ^^The proud," says an eloquent writer, 
*'look down upon the earth, and see nothing that creeps 



Feelings and character of the man who lives in this state? His views of 
God ? Influence of such contemplations of the Deity ? Double effect pro- 
duced by it ? 



228 



THE MORAL RELATION OF MAN 



[part rv. 



upon its surface more noble than themselves; the hum- 
ble look upwards to their God.'' This disposition of 
mind, so far from being opposed to the acquirements 
of philosophy, sits with peculiar grace lipon the man 
who, through the m.ost zealous cultivation of human 
science, ascends to the eternal cause. The farther he 
advances in the wonders of nature, the higher he rises in 
his adoration of the power and the wisdom which guide 
the whole; '' Where others see a sun. he sees a Deity.'' 
And then, in every step of life, whether of danger, dis- 
tress, or difficulty, the man who cultivates this inter- 
course with the incomprehensible One ''inquires in 
his temple." He inquires for the guidance of divine 
wisdom, and the strength of divine aid, in his progress 
through the state of moral discipline ; he inquires, in a 
peculiar manner, for this aid in the culture of his moral 
being, when he views this mighty undertaking in its 
important reference to the life which is to come; he 
inquires for a discernment of the ways of Divine Provi- 
dence, as he either feels it in his own concerns, or views 
it in the chain of events which are going on in the 
world around him. He learns to trace the whole to 
the same unerring hand which guides the planet in its 
course; and thus rests in the absolute conviction that 
the economy of Providence is one great and magnificent 
system of design, and order, and harmony. These, 
we repeat with confidence, are no visions of the imagi- 
nation, but the sound inductions of a calm and rational 
philosophy. They are conclusions which compel the 

Striking remarks quoted in respect to pride and humility ? Influeiica oi' a 
humble sense of God upon the mind in a philosophical point of vi|w? In- 
fluence of it in difficulty and danger ? View which such a mind takes of tba 
erents of Providence ? 



PART IV. J 



TOWARDS THE DEITY. 



229 



assent of every candid inquirer, when he follows out 
that investigation of mighty import, — what is God, and 
what is that essence in man which he has endowed 
v/ith the power of rising to himself 

To enlarge upon these important subjects would 
lead us away from the proper design of a work, which 
is intended chiefly to investigate the light we derive 
from the phenomena of the mind itself The points 
which have been stated, as arising out of the impres- 
sions of every soiuid understanding, challenge the 
assent of all who believe in a present and presiding 
Beity, a being of infinite powder and wisdom, and of 
perfect purity. With him who calls in question this 
subUme truth, we have no common feeling, and no 
mutual premises on which an argument can be found- 
ed. We must therefore leave him to sit in solitary 
pride, while he views the chaos which his fancy has 
framed, and strives to reconcile the discordant elements 
of a system, in which there are effects without a cause, 
and havrmony without a regulating power; and in 
which the mind can perceive no element of credibility, 
consistency, or truth. 

With this slight outline, therefore, Vv^e must quit a 
subject of the deepest interest, but which belongs rather 
to tlie theologian than to the inquirer in mental science; 
and proceed briefly to investigate the means by vvdiich 
the condition of the moral feelings, which has been the 
subject of the preceding observations, maybe promoted 

Consistency of these views v/ith the sound philosophy ? Upon wliat sinsrie 
article of helief do these principles rest for their foundation? Suppose a 
man dishclieves this truth? Is it consistent with the nature and design of 
this work to go very fully into the sul)ject of relit^ious duty ? Subject now 
to be considered ? 

20 



230 



THE MORAL RELATION OF MAN [PART IV. 



and cultivated as the regulating principle of the whole 
character. Two views may be taken of this point, 
which, though they harmonize with each other in 
practice, are to be considered, in their philosophical ' 
aspect, as distinct. 

The restoration of man from a state of estrangement; 
anarchy, or moral death, we are taught in the sacred 
writings to refer to a power from without the mind, an 
influence directly from God. We have seen the vari- 
ous considerations derived from the phenomena of the 
mind, and our impressions of the divine character, 
giving to this great doctrine a probability which claims 
the assent of every correct understanding. But, with- 
out in any degree losing sight of the truth and the im- 
portance of this principle, the immediate object of our 
attention, as a branch of mental science, is rather the 
process of the mind itself, by means of which a habi- 
tual influence is produced upon the whole character. 
This is a compound operation, which may probably be 
analyzed in the following manner. It seems to be 
composed of reason, attention, and a modification of 
conception. The province of reason is to examine the 
truth of the statements or doctrines, which are proposed 
to the mind, as calculated to act upon its moral feel- 
ings; and upon this being done in a correct manner 
must depend the validity of the subsequent parts of the 
mental process. This being premised, it is the office 
of attention, aided by reason, to direct the mind assi- 

Views to be taken of it? To what means is the moral restoration of man 
referred in the Scriptures? Do philosophical considerations tend to confirm 
or to question this truth ? Is this subject to be entered upon fully here ? 
What is the immediate object of the author's attention in ihis place ? Ts 
this process simple or compound ? Its elements. Province of reason ? 



PART IV.] 



TOWARDS THE DEITY. 



231 



diiously to the truths, so as fully to perceive their 
relations and tendencies. By the farther process, 
analogous to conception, they are then placed before 
us, in such a manner as to give them the effect of real 
and present existence. By these means, truths relating 
to things for which we have not the evidence of our 
senses, or referring to events which are future, but 
fully expected to happen, are kept before the mind, anc? 
influence the moral feelings and the character, in the 
same manner as if the facts believed were actually 
. seen, or the events expected were taking place in our 
view. This mental operation is faitit; and for the 
sound exercise of it the constituent elements now men- 
tioned are essentially necessary. The truth must be 
received by the judgment upon adequate evidence; 
and, by the other parts of the process, it must be so 
kept before the mind, that it may exercise such a 
moral influence as might arise from the actual vision, 
or present existence, of the things believed. 

Attention to these considerations will probably ena- 
ble us to discover some of the fallacies which have ob- 
scured and bewildered this important subject. When 
the impression, which is thus allowed to influence the 
mind, is one which has not been received by the judg- 
ment upon due examination, and adequate evidence of 
its truth, — this is enthusiasm, not faith. Our present 
course of inquiry does not lead us to treat ot the notions 
which have, in various individuals, been thus allowed 
to usurp the place of truth. To those who would pre- 



Pr.vince of attention? The third step ? Name of this mental operation ? 
What is essential to it? Important use which we may make of these cou- 
kidc rations ? What is enthusiasm ? 



232 



THE MORAL RELATION OF MAN 



[part IV, 



serve themselves from the influence of such, the first 
great inquiry, respecting their own mental impressionSj 
ought to be, are they facts, and on what evidence do 
they rest which can satisfy a sound understanding 
that thev are so. On the other hand is to be avoided 
an error, not less dangerous than the wildest fancies 
of the enthusiast, and not less unworthy of a regulated 
liiind. This consists in treating real and important 
truths as if they were visions of the imagination, and 
thus dismissing them, without examination, from the 
influence which they ought to produce upon the moral 
feeUngs. It is singular also to remark, how these two 
modifications of character may be traced to a condition 
of the reasoning powers essentially the same. The 
former receives a fiction of the imagination, and rests 
upon it as truth. The latter, acting upon some preju- 
dice or mental impression, which has probably no bet- 
ter foundation, puts away real and important truths 
without any examination of the evidence on which 
they are founded. The misapplication of the reasoning 
powers is the same in both. It consists in proceeding 
upon a mere impression, without exercising the judg- 
ment on the question of its evidence, or on the facts 
and considerations which are opposed to it. Two 
characters of a very opposite description thus meet in 
that mental condition, which draws them equally, 
though in different directions, astray from the truth. 

When a truth has fully received the sanction of the 
judgment, the second office of faith is, by attention 



Inquiry by which we may preserve ourselves from it ? Another error, ol 
which there is equal danger ? Singularity in respect to the origin of these 
opposite errors ? How may the two be shown to arise from the same source '* 



PART rv.] 



TOWARDS THE DEITY. 



233 



and conception, to keep it habitually before the mmd 
so that it may produce its proper influence upon the 
character. This is to live by faith; and in this con 
sists that operation of the great principle, which efi'ec- 
tually distinguishes it from all pretended feelings ano 
impressions assuming its name. We speak, in common 
language, of a head-knowledge which does not affect 
the heart ; and of a man who is sound in his creed 
while he shows little of its influence upon his conduct. 
The mental condition of such a man presents a subject 
of intense interest. His alleged belief, it is probable, 
consists merely in words, or in arguing ingeniously on 
points to which he attaches no real value. These may 
have been impressed upon him by education; they 
may constitute the creed of a party to Avhich he has 
devoted himself; and he may argue in support of them 
with all the energy of party zeal. In the same manner, 
a man may contend warmly in favor of compassion^ 
whose conduct shows a cold and barren selfishness: 
but this is not benevolence; and the other is not faith. 
Both are empty professions of a belief in certain truths, 
which have never fixed themselves in the mind, so as 
to become regulating principles or moral causes in the 
mental constitution. We may indeed suppose another 
character, slightly removed from this, in which the 
truths have really received the approbation of the 
judgment, and yet fail to produce their proper influ 
ence. This arises from distorted moral habits, and a 
vitiated state of the moral faculties, which have de- 

The second great office of faith ? Practical value of this principle as a 
test? Nature of mere "dead" belief? In what does it probably consist? 
Zeal which may be manifested in such a case ? Is this real faith ? Anotner 
case in which truth, really apprehended, may fail of controlling the character '! 

20^ 



234 



THE MORAL RELATION OF MAN [PART. IV 



stroyed the healthy balance of the whole economy of 
the mind. The consequence is, that the man perceives 
and approves of truths, without feeUng their tenden- 
cies, and without manifesting their power. 

Intimately connected with this subject, also, is a re- 
markable principle in our mental constitution, formerly 
referred to; namely, the relation between certain facts 
or truths, and certain moral emotions, which naturally 
arise from them, according to the chain of sequences 
which has been established in the economy of the 
mind. A close connection thus exists between our in- 
tellectual habits and our moral feelings, which leads to 
consequences of the utmost practical moment. Though 
we have little immediate voluntary power over our 
moral emotions, we have a power over the intellectual 
processes with which these are associated. We cau 
direct the mind to truths, and we can cherish trains of 
thought, which are calculated to produce correct moral 
feelings; and we can avoid or banish mental images or 
trains of thought, which have an opposite tendency. 
This is the power over the succession of our thoughts, 
the due exercise of which forms so important a feature 
of a well-regulated mind, in regard to intellectual cul- 
ture: its influence upon us as moral beings is of still 
higher and more vital importance. 

The sound exercise of that mental condition wbirli 
we call faith consists, therefore, in the reception of 
certain truths by the judgment, the proper direction of 
the attention to their moral tendencies, and tlie habitual 



Important principle in the mental constitution connected with this subject ? 
How is it that a power over our moral feelings arises by means of this pria- 
ciple? Recapitulation of the nature of faith 



PART IV.] 



TOWARDS THE DEITY. 



235 



influence of them upon the feelings and the conduct. 
When the sacred writers tell us that without faith it is 
impossible to please God. and when they speak of a 
man being saved by faith, it is not to a mere admission 
of certain truths as part of his creed that they ascribe 
consequences so important; but to a state in which 
these truths are uniformly followed out to certain re- 
sults, which they are calculated to produce, according 
to the usual course of sequences, in every sound mind. 
This principle is strikingly illustrated by one of these 
writers, by reference to a simple narrative. During 
the invasion of Canaan by the armies of Israel, two 
men were sent forward as spies to bring a report con- 
cerning the city of Jericho. The persons engaged in 
this hiission were received in a friendly manner by a 
woman whose house was upon the wall of the city; 
when their presence was discovered, she hid them from 
their pursuers: and finally enabled them to escape, by 
letting them down by a cord from a window. Before 
taking leave of them, she expressed her firm conviction, 
that the army to which they belonged was soon to take 
possession of Jericho, and of the whole country; and 
she made them swear to her, that, when this should 
take place, they would show mercy to her father's 
house. The engagement was strictly fulfilled. When 
the city was taken, and the other inhabitants destroyed, 
the woman v/as preserved, with all her kindred. In 
this very simple occurrence, the woman is represented, 
by the sacred writer, as having been saved by faith. 

Importance attached to faith in the Scriptures? In what sense is it used 
m the Scriptures '? Narrative referred to in illustration ? Repeat the narra 
cive. 



236 



THE MORAL RELATION OF MAN [PART IV. 



The object of her faith was the event which she confi- 
dently expected, — that the city of Jericho was to be 
destroyed. The ground of her faith was the rapid 
manner in which the most powerful nations had alrea- 
dy fallen before the armies of Israel, led, as she be- 
lieved, by a divine power. Acting upon this conviction, 
m the manner in which a belief so deeply affecting her 
personal safety was likely to influence any sound mind, 
she took means for her preservation, by making friends 
of the spies. Her faith saved her, because without it 
she would not have made this provision; but, unless 
she had followed out her belief to the measure which 
was calculated to effect this object, the mere belief of 
the event would have availed her nothing. When we 
therefore ascribe important results to faith, or to any 
other mental operation, we ascribe them not to the 
operation itself, but to this followed out to the conse- 
quences which it naturally produces, according to the 
constitution of the human mind. In the same manner, 
we may speak of one man, in a certain state of danger 
or difliculty, being saved by his wisdom, and another 
by his strength. In doing so, we ascribe such results 
not to the mere possession of these qualities, but to the 
efforts which naturally arose from them, in the circum- 
stances in which the individual was placed. And 
when the inspired writer says, that without faith it is 
impossible to please God, he certainly refers to no mere 
mental impression, and to no barren system of opi- 
nions; but to the reception of certain truths, which, in 

The object of this woman's faith ? The ground of it ? Its efficiency in 
governing her conduct ? What was it which gave her faith all its power and 
value? To what, in all cases, are the important results of faith to be as- 
:nbed '? Analogies illustrating this principle ? 



PART IV. J TOWARDS THE DEITY. 237 

our present state of being, are entirely the ol)jects of 
faith, and to all that influence, upon the moral feelings 
and the character, which these must produce upon 
every mind that really believes them. 

On this great subject, much misconception appears 
to have arisen from not sufficiently attending to the 
condition in which, as moral beings, we are placed in 
the present state of existence, and the important jmrt 
which must be performed by the mental exercise called 
faith. As physical and intellectual beings, we have 
certain relations to the objects by which we are sur- 
rounded, and with these we communicate by means 
of our bodily senses. But, as moral beings, our rela- 
tions are entirely of a different nature; and the facts 
and motives, which are calculated to act upon us in 
these relations, are chiefly the objects of faith; that is, 
they are not cognizable by any of our senses, but are 
to be received by a different part of our constitution, 
and upon a separate kind of evidence. This, accor- 
dingly, is the simple but important distinction referred 
to by the sacred writer, when, in allusion to our condi- 
tion as moral beings, he says, we walk by faith, not 
by sight." The objects of sight^ here intended to 
express all the objects of sense, exercise over us a habi- 
tual and powerful influence. They constantly obtrude 
themselves upon our notice without any exertion of 
our own; and it requires a peculiar exercise of mind 
to withdraw our attention from them, and to feel the 

Source of misconception on this subject ? " Our physical and intellectual 
relations 7 Our moral relations ? How are they cognizable ? Quotation 
from Scripture explained by these principles ? Influence of the objects of 
sense over us ? 



238 



THE MORAL RELATION OF MAN [PART I\ 



power of events which are future, and of things which 
are not seen. This mental exercise is faith. Its spe- 
cial province, as we have seen, is to receive truths 
which are presented directly to the mind, to place them 
before us with all the vividness of actual and present 
existence, and to make them exert upon us an agency 
analogous to that which is produced by objects of sight. 
The next great point in our inquiry, therefore, is, what 
are the truths which are calculated thus to operate 
upon us as moral beings, and which it is the object of 
faith to bring habitually before us-. 

When we withdrav/ our minds from the influence 
of sensible things, and send forth our attention to those 
truths which are the province of faith, the first great 
object which meets our view is the eternal incompre- 
hensible One, the moral governor of the universe, a 
being of infinite perfections and infinite purity. From 
the stupendous works of nature, we trace his operation 
as the great First Cause, and infer, with absolute cer- 
tainty, his boundless power and wisdom, and his inde- 
pendent existence. The impress of his moral attributes 
he has fixed with indelible certaintj?- upon our moral 
perceptions, where, in the light of conscience, co- 
operating with a simple process of reason, we perceive 
him to be a being of infinite holiness, and of unerring 
truth and justice. Our knowledge of these attributes 
is not the result of any process of reasoning which can 
admit of deliberation or doubt. They force themselves 
upon our conviction by the most simple principles of 



Counteracting influence ? What point of inquiry now arises ? First grea* 
truth to be received by faith 1 Inferences from it 7 



PAJIT IV.J 



TOWARDS THE DEITY. 



239 



induction, w!ien, from our own mental and moral 
endowments, we infer the perfections of him who 
formed us. 

From every conception we can form of such a being, 
we have an equally insuperable conviction of his uni- 
versal presence, — that he is the witness not oi.ly of our 
conduct, but of the thoughts and imaginations of the 
heart; and that from these, as indicating our real 
condition, and not from our conduct alone, our moral 
aspect is estimated by him, the pure and holy One wlio 
seeth in secret. Each moment, as it passes rapidly 
over us, we know is bringing us nearer to that period, 
when all our hopes and fears for this world shall lie 
with us in the grave. But we feel also that this is the 
entrance to another state of being, a state of moral 
retribution, where the eternal One is to be disclosed in 
all his attributes as a moral governor. These conside- 
rations fix themselves upon the mind, with a feeling 
of yet new and more tremendous interest, when we 
farther take into view that this future existence 
stretches out before us into endless duration. This is 
the truth so powerfully expressed by the sacred writer, 
in terms which by their brevity convey, in the most 
adequate manner, their overwhelming import, — ''The 
things which are seen are temporal, but the things 
which are not seen are eternal." 

These truths are not the visions of enthusiasm; nei- 
ther are they the result of any process of reasoning, by 
which different men mky arrive at different conclusions. 



On what kind of evidence is our knowledge of the divine attributes based 1 
Second great truth ? Other truths in respect to our condition here and pro 
uerts hereafter ? 



240 THE MORAL RELATION OF MAN [PART IV. 

They force themselves upon our conviction, with a 
power which we cannot put away from us, when we 
turn our attention to the solemn inquiry, what we are, 
and what is God. In the sacred writings they are de- 
tailed and illustrated, in a connected and harmonious 
manner; and are impressed upon us with the force of 
a revelation from 4:he Deity himself But the principles 
there disclosed meet with an impression, in our moral 
constitution, which pleads with authority for their 
truth. It is the province of faith to keep these habitu- 
ally before the mind, and to cause them to influence 
the feelings and the conduct, as if they were objects of 
sense, — as if the Deity in all the purity of his character 
were actually disclosed to our view, — or as if we were 
present at that dread hour which shall witness his 
^ righteous retribution. The man who thus feels their 
power, and exhibits their influence upon his character, 
is he who lives by faith. 

When, under this mental exercise, a man brings 
himself into the immediate presence of the Eternal 
One; when he arraigns himself, as it were, before the 
bar of the omniscient Judge; when he places before 
him that future state which stretches into endless ex- 
istence; a train of feelings must arise in his mind, to 
which he was a stranger, so long as he placidly resign- 
ed himself to the influence of sensible things. He views 
this being of infinite purity as one who has been all 
his life the daily witness of his conduct; and feels that 
even the secrets of the heart have been at all times 

Nature ot these truths as to the evidence they rest upon '? Can there be 
any reasonable doubt of them? Two distinct sources of evidence? The 
province of faith in respect to them ? Moral influence of these principles or 
the heart of the religious man ? His view of God ? 



^ART IV.] 



TOWARDS THE DEITY. 



241 



open to divine inspection. Each day, as it passed un- 
heeded over him, was a portion gone by of his period 
of moral disciphne; and each, as it gUded amid tho 
frivohties of hfe, or the active pursuit of temporal good, 
had its moral aspect assigned to it in the judgment of 
the eternal mind, iilong with these impressions, which 
no reflecting man can put away from him, a voice 
within forces upon him the conviction, that, were his 
whole history disclosed to his fellow-men, he would, 
even in their estimation, be found wanting. How 
much more deeply must this be fixed upon his inmost 
soul, when he feels that the whole is, at- one glance, 
exposed to the eye of Omniscience; and that an hour 
is rapidly approaching, when a strict account must be 
rendered, and a righteous sentence pronounced, the 
result of which will extend into eternal existence. 
With these truths upon his mind, what reflecting man 
can view without awe the moment which is to close 
his state of moral discipline, when, disencumbered 
from his earthly tenement, he shall find himself alone 
with God, and there shall burst upon his astonished 
faculties the blaze of an endless day! These are not 
speculations of fancy, but eternal truth. The man who 
habitually acts under their influence knows that his 
faith rests upon a conviction which cannot be shaken, 
when he recognises in all his ways the presence and 
the inspection of the Deity, when he feels the obhga- 
tion to have even the desires and affections under sub- 
jection to his will, and when he resigns himself to his 



His view of time ; — of his own character ; — of his responsibility, and ap 
proachiug account? His views of death? Firmness with which his faitb 
rests upon these truths ? 

21 



242 



THE MORAL RELATlOxN^ OF MAN 



[part IV 



guidance and asks his powerful aid, both for the con- 
duct of this life, and the preparation Jfor the life which 
is to come. 

Solemn is the hour when a man thus retires from 
the tumult of life, and seriously proposes to himself the 
question, what is his condition as a moral being; what 
have been his leading pursuits in that life which is 
hastening to a close; what is his aspect in the view of 
that incomprehensible One, who perceives at a single 
glance the whole details of his moral history. Is he 
safe to meet the full splendor of that eye; has he no 
apprehension, that, when called to account in the im- 
mediate presence of unerring purity, he ma}^ not be 
able to answer? The man lives not, who can appeal 
to his own heart and say, after serious inquiry, that he 
can thus meet the penetrating search of him, whose 
knowledge is perfect, as his purity is infinite: the man 
lives not, who can look back upon his whole life with- 
out feeling, that, in the sight of this unspotted One, he 
is polluted with guilt: and, if his heart condemn him, 
with all its partiality for his own views and feehngs, 
and all its forgetfulness of many points in his moral 
history, he must feel that God is greater than his heart, 
and knoweth all things. Under such an impression, 
to what refuge shall he betake himself? Does he ap- 
peal to an indefinite idea of the mercy of the Deity? it 
must be evident that this conveys no distinct principle, 
and will not bear the confidence which is essential to 



Their practical influence? Solemnity of the inquiry respecting our tnie 
moral condition? The feelings with which this inquiry must necessarily be 
met ? The refuge ? 



PART \V.] TOWARDS THE DEITY. 243 

hope and peace. For we cannot go to the extent of 
supposing a mercy so indiscriminate, that the Deity 
will depart from all the laws which he has made, and 
which he has impressed upon us as a part of our moral 
constitution. This would be ascribing to infinite wis- 
dom an indecision and a change of purpose, unworthy 
of the weakest human lawgiver. If, then, we do not 
Doldly assume this position, how are we to draw the 
line where such mercy is to terminate; and where the 
Almighty is to appear in his character of justice, as a 
righteous moral governor. If we find that each indi- 
vidual fixes a different standard, and that each extends 
it so as to favor his own condition, it is clear that the 
system presents no character of truth, and that it is in- 
capable of ministering to the consolation of him who 
feels his own necessities, and serioush^ contemplates 
the character of God. He must perceive that to apply 
such reasoning to human enactments, would be to 
represent them as a mockery of justice : and that it is 
impossible thus to argue respecting the laws of him 
who is infinite in holiness and boundless in wisdom. 
He cannot but acknovv^ledge that a universe governed in 
such a manner would run into irremediable confusion 
and anarchy: and will find it impossible, on any prin- 
ciple which human reasoning can furnish, to arrive at 
any other decision than this, that the Judge of all the 
earth must be unchanging in his purposes, and impar- 
tial in his justice. 



Can he find relief in the hope of the indiscriminate mercy of God ? Wh"* 
not? Is indiscriminate mercy consistent with justice even in the case of 
human enactments ? ~So far as we can see, what must he its effects m the 
gu vernment of God ? Conclusion to which the inquirer would he led ? 



244 



THE MORAL RELATION OF MAN [PART IV. 



To this conclusion we are led by the clearest induc- 
tions of moral science; but, at this momentous point, 
philosophy fails us. No human power can find a 
refuge, to which the mind can betake itself under a 
sense of guilt ; no human wisdom can answer the in- 
quiry of mighty import, can God be just and yet justify 
the ungodly. But here we are met by a hght from 
heaven, which has burst upon the scene of doubt and 
of darkness; and are called to bring down the pride of 
our reason, in humble submission to the testimony of 
God. It comes supported by a weight of evidence, 
which challenges the cordial assent of the most acute 
understanding, and the power of which will be best 
appreciated by those who, with sincere desire for truth, 
have made the highest attainments in the laws of rigid 
inquiry. It discloses an atonement made for sin, and 
an influence from heaven, calculated to restore the 
moral being to the purity in which it was formed. It 
thus meets alike the necessities of man, as in a state 
of actual guilt and a state of moral degradation. For 
the one, it displays a scheme of mercy in which the 
integrity of the divine character is vindicated, while 
pardon is extended to transgressors. To the other, it 
offers power from heaven, which will correct the disor- 
ders of the moral constitution, and raise the man anew 
to the likeness of God. It thus forms a harmonious 
whole, uniform and consistent in itself, worthy of the 
character of God, and adapted to the condition of man; 
and, to every one who feels his own moral necessities, 

Can philosophy furnish us with any substantial hope of pardon for sin? 
The light on this subject from revelation? The double exigency which the 
scripture plan of pardon meets? Its provision for the guilt of man; — fot 
his helplessness ? 



PART IV.] 



TOWARDS THE DEITY. 



245 



and estimates the purity of the Deity, it brings an 
absolute conviction of its truth. 

A participation in the benefits of this revelation of 
divine mercy is said, in the sacred writings, to be re- 
ceived by faith; and this expression has given rise to 
controversies and contending systems, which have in- 
volved the subject in much perplexity. -While some 
have restricted the operation of faith to the mere belief 
of a certain system of opinions, others have referred to 
it a series of mysterious impressions, and enthusiastic 
feelings, at variance with every dictate of sound rea- 
soning. The principle of faith, however, holds so promi- 
nent a place in the scheme of Christian truth, that 
some clear notions respecting its nature must be felt to 
be of the highest interest. It holds also, as we have 
formerly seen, a most important position in the philoso- 
phy of the moral feelings, being that mental operation 
by which we receive a certain class of truths, of the 
utmost consequence to us as responsible beings. It is 
a process which every one feels, but which cannot be 
defined; and it can be illustrated only by tracing its 
influence, in regard to those objects to which it is more 
particularly directed. 

The objects of faith are twofold : truths addressed to 
our understanding, and benefits offered or promised. 
We have formerly had occasion to trace the action of 
faith in regard to truth, especially a class of truths 
which are calculated, when really believed, to exert a 
powerful eflfect upon our moral feelings and conduct. 



How are the benefits of this revelation of mercy said to be received, in the 
Scriptures ? Controversies which have arisen out of this subject ? Twofold 
objects of faith ? 

21^ 



246 THE MORAL RELATION OF MAN [PART IT. 



Its operation, we have seen, is to bring these truths 
before us in such a manner, that they exert the same 
kind of influence as if the facts or events were objects 
of sense. The man who beheves these truths, so as 
thus habitaally to feel their power, is he who receives 
them in faith. This is the province of faith in regard 
to truth. We have next to analyze its operation in 
regard to offered or promised benefits ; and this we can 
best do by means of an example. 

Let us take the illustration of a man affected with a 
disease supposed to be mortal; he is told that a remedy 
has been discovered of infallible efficacy ; and that a 
person is at hand who is ready to administer it. Does 
he perceive his danger ; does he believe the virtue of 
the remedy; does he confide in the sincerity of the 
individual who offers it; — this is faith. The immedi'^'.o 
and natural result of his faith is, that he asks lor the 
remedy which is offered; and this result is inseparable 
from such belief, according to the uniform sequence of 
volitions in every sound mind. The man who profes- 
ses to admit the facts, and does not show such a result 
of belief, professes what he does not actually feel. If 
he perceives not the extent of his danger, he asks not 
the remedy, because he values it not; and the same 
effect may follow, if he doubts either its efficacy, or 
the sincerity of him who oSers it. In this case, it is 
also to be observed, that a reflection is thrown upon 
the character of this individual, by imputing to him an 
offer of what he has either not the power or the inten- 



Province of faith in regard to truth? Illustration? In what would faith 
consist m such a case ? Its natural result ? What may we safely infer when 
this result does not follow ? 



PART IV.] 



TOWARDS THE DEITY. 



247 



tiou lo perform. But if the man really believes the 
triuhs, he applies for the remedy; and he receives it. 
Thus his faith saves him, because by means of it he 
sought the offered aid. Could we suppose him merely 
to admit the facts, without asking the remedy, his be- 
lief would avail him nothing. 

Such appears to be the simple view we are to take 
of faith, when we apply it to the great benefits which 
are presented to us in the Christian revelation. This 
is addressed to us as beings in a state both of guilt and 
of depravity; and as having no means of our own. by 
which we can rescue ourselves from condemnation and 
impurity. It unfolds a dispensation of peace, by which, 
in perfect consistency with the harmony of his charac- 
ter, the Deitv offers mercy and forgiveness, and an 
influence from himself which has power to purify the 
moral being. These benefits are conferred on every 
one who believes; and who is he that believes? the 
man who is convinced of his guilt, and perceives his 
impurity; who feels his inability to rescue himself; 
who admits the efficacy of the remedy, and confides in 
the sincerity with which it is offered; — this is he who 
believes. His faith saves him; because, acting on his 
conviction, according to the uniform sequence of voli- 
tions in every sound mind, he asks the promised aid, 
and asking, receives it. Much of tlie confusion in 
which the subject has been- involved, appears to have 
arisen from metaphysical refinements, by which the 



How and why would faith in such a case save the man ? Application of 
the principle to religious faith? How is the Christian revelation addressed 
to us ? The exhibition it makes ? Upon whom only are these benefits to be 
conferred ? How is it that his faith saves him ? How have the mistakes 
and the confusion connected with this subject originated ? 



248 



THE MORAL RELATION OF MAN [PART IV, 



various parts of this mental process are separated trom 
each other. They form one harmonious whole, which 
cannot be broken. The man will not seek the remedy 
who believes not its efficacy, and perceives not his 
moral necessities; but, however he may profess to ad- 
mit these facts, if he follows not out his belief to its 
natural result, by applying for the remedy, his mere • 
belief will not profit him. The grounds on which 
these truths are addressed to us, are contained in that 
chain of evidence on which is founded the whole sys- 
tem of Christianity, taken along with the conviction 
which every man receives of his actual moral condition 
from the voice of conscience within. A sense of the 
sincerity of the offer we derive from our impression of 
the unchangeable attributes of the Deity. Accordingly, 
he who believes is said to give glory to God, that is, 
to receive his statements with absolute confidence, and 
to form an honorable conception of the sincerity of his 
intentions. He who believes not, rejects the statements 
of the Almighty as false, and treats him with the con- 
tempt which "we apply to one whom we suppose to 
promise what he has no intention to bestow. The 
man who comes to God with the hope of acceptance is 
therefore required to come in the assurance of faith, or 
an implicit conviction that he is sincere in his inten- 
tions of bestowing the blessings which he offers; and 
whosoever hath not this assurance does dishonor to the 
divine character, or '^maketh God a liar." 

Thus the great system of Christian truth, harmoni- 
ous and consistent in itself, and challenging the appro- 



Double ground on which our evidence of these truths rests ? The view m 
w^hich God is regarded by the believer 7 — — • by the unbeliever ? 



PART IV.] 



TOAVARDS THE DEITY. 



249 



bation of the soundest understanding, reveals, as we 
have seen, a dispensation of mercy, in accordance with 
the highest ideas we can form of the divine perfections. 
It is supported by a chain of evidence, which carries 
conviction to the mind of the most rigid inquirer; and 
thus it is a sound and legitimate object of faith. It 
•reveals also a provision for purifying the moral nature; 
and this in every case accompanies the dispensation 
of mercy to those who receive it. The effects of this 
powerful agency, therefore, become the test and the 
evidence of the reality of faith. Does a man seek a 
proof of his acceptance, — the reference is to facts in 
his own moral condition. He is to look for it in a 
change which is taking place in his character, — a new 
direction of his desires, a new regulation of his affec- 
tions, a habitual impression, to which he was a stran- 
ger before, of the presence and the perfections of the 
Deity, and a new light which has burst upon his view, 
respecting his relations to this life and to that which is 
to come. He is to seek this evidence in a mind which 
aims at no lower standard than that which will bear 
the constant inspection of infinite purity; he is to seek 
it, and to manifest it to others, in a spirit which takes 
no lower pattern than that model of perfection, the 
character of the Messiah. These acquirements, indeed, 
are looked upon, not as a ground of acceptance, but a 
test of moral condition; not as, in any degree, usurping 
the place of the great principle of faith, but as its fruits 
and evidences. As these, then, are the only proofs of 

Leading characteristics of this great system of Christian truth ? The only 
true test of faith ? Where are we to look for evidences of its genuineness ? 
How are all moral acquirements to be regarded, in respect to man's mor?' 
condition and prospects? 



25G man's relation to the deity. [part i> 

the reality of this principle, so they are the only basis 
on which a man can rest any sound conviction of his 
moral aspect in the sight of the Deity; and that sys- 
tem is founded on delusion and falsehood, which, in 
this respect, holds out any other ground of confidence 
than the purification of the heart, and a corresponding 
harmony of the whole character. Such attainment, 
indeed, is not made at once, nor is it ever made in a 
fulPand perfect manner in the present state of being; 
but, where the great principle has been fixed within, 
there is a persevering effort, and a uniform contest, 
and a continual aspiration after conformity to the great 
model of perfection. Each step that a man gains in 
this progress serves to extend his view of the high pat- 
tern to which his eye is steadily directed; and as his 
knowledge of it is thus enlarged, he is led by compari- 
son to feel more and more deeply his own deficiency. 
It thus produces increasing humility, and an increasing 
sense of his own imperfection, and causes him continu- 
ally to feel, that, in this warfare, he requires a power 
which is not in man. But he knows also that this is 
provided, as an essential part of the great system on 
which his hope is established. Amid much weakness, 
therefore, and many infirmities, his moral improve- 
ment goes forward. Faint and feeble at first, as the 
earliest dawn of the morning, it becomes brighter and 
steadier as it proceeds in its course, and, '*as the 
shining light, shineth more and more unto the perfect 
day." ^ 



Nature of the moral progress to be made here ? Effects of it upon the 
heart 7 Progress of it to ultimate perfection ? 



APPENDIX. 



I 



2 



THE IMMEDIATE COMMUNICATION 



The follow-ing chapter from Dymond's Essays on the Principles 
of Morality" contains views connected with this study of so great 
importance, that it was concluded to add it to this work. 

THE Dl5lEDIATE COMMUNICATION OF THE WILL OF GOD. 

Conscience — Its nature — Its authority — Review of opinions respecting a 
moral sense — Bishop Butler — Lord Bacon — Lord Shaftesbury — Watts- 
Voltaire — Locke — Southey — Adam Smith — Paley — Rousseau — .Milton 
^-Judge Hale — Marcus Antoninus — Epictetus — Seneca — Paul — That 
every human being possesses a moral law — Pagans — Gradations of 
light — ^Prophecy — The immediate communication of the Divine Will 
perpetual— Of national vices : Infanticide : Duelling — Of savage life. 

The reader is solicited to approach this subject with that 
mental seriousness Avhich its nature requires. Whateyer be 
his opinions upon the subject, w^hether he believes in the 
reality of such communication or not, he ought not even to 
think respecting it but with feelings of seriousness. 

In endeavouring to investigate this reality, it becomes espe- 
cially needful to distinguish the communication of the Will 
of God from those mental phenomena with which it has very 
commonly been intermingled and confounded. The want of 
this distinction has occasioned a confusion which has been" 
greatly injurious to the cause of truth. It has occasioned 
great obscurity of opinion respecting divine instruction ; and 
by associating error with truth, has frequently induced scep- 
ticism respecting the truth itself. — AVhen an intelligent person 
perceives that infaUioh truth or divine authority is described 
as belonging to the dictates of " Conscience," and when he 
perceives, as he must perceive, that these dictates are various 
and som.etimes contradictory ; he is in danger of concluding 
that no unerring and no divine guidance is accorded to man. 

Upon this serious subject it is therefore peculiarly neces- 
sary to endeavour to attain distinct ideas, and to employ those 
words only which convey distinct ideas to other men. The 
first section of the present chapter will accordingly be devoted 
to some brief observations respecting the Conscience, its na- 
ture, and its authority ; by which it is hoped the reader will 
see sufficient reason to distinguish its dictates from that higher 
guidance, respecting which it is the object of the present 
chapter to enquire. 

For a kindred purpose, it appears requisite to offer a short 
reAievr" of popular and philosophical opinions respecting a 
INIoral Sense. These opinions will be found to have been 
frequently expressed in great indistinctness and ambiguity of 
language. The purpose of the writer in referring to these | 



CHAP. VI.] 



OF THE WILL OF GOD. 



3 



opinions, is to enquire whether they do not generally involve 
a. recognition — obscurely perhaps, but still a recognition — of 
the principle, that God communicates his will to the mind. 
If they do this, and if they do it without design or conscious- 
ness, no trifling testimony is afforded to the truth of the prin- 
ciple : for how should this principle thus secretly recommend 
itself to the minds of men, except by the influence of its own 
evidence ? 



SECTION I. 

CONSCIENCE, ITS NATURE AND AUTHORITY. 

In the attempt to attach distinct notions to the term " Con- 
science," we have to request the reader not to estimate the 
accuracy of our observations by the notions which he may 
have habitually connected with the word. Our disquisition 
is not about terms but truths. If the observations are in them- 
selves just, our principal object is attained. The secondary 
object, that of connecting truth with appropriate terms, is only 
so far attainable by a writer, as shall be attained by an uni- 
form employment of words in determinate senses in his own 
practice. 

Men possess notions of right and wrong ; they possess a 
belief that, under given circumstances, they ought to do one 
thing or to forbear another. This belief I would call a con- 
scientious belief. And when such a belief exists in a man's 
mind in reference to a number of actions, I would call the 
sum or aggregate of his notions respecting what is right and 
wrong, his Conscience. 

To possess notions of right and wrong in human conduct — - 
to be convinced that v/e ought to do or to forbear an action — 
implies and supposes a sense of obligation existent in the 
mind. A man who feels that it is wrong for him to do a 
thing, possesses a sense of obligation to refrain. Into the 
origin of this sense of obligation, jor how it is induced into the 
mind, we do not enquire : it is sufficient for our purpose that 
it exists ; and there is no reason to doubt that its existence is 
consequent of the v^^ill of God. 

In most men — perhaps in all — this sense of oblio^ation re- 
fers, with gi-eater or less disthictness, to the will of a supe- 
rior being. The imoression, iuwever obscure, is, in gene 
22 



4 THE IMMEDIATE COMMUNICATION [eSSAY I. 

ral, fundamentally this : I must do so or so, because God 
requires it. 

It is found that this sense of obligation is sometimes con- 
nected, in the minds of separate individuals, with different 
actions. One man thinks he oaght to do a thing from which 
another thinks he ought to forbear. Upon the great questions 
of morality there is indeed, in general, a congruity of human 
judgment ; yet subjects do arise respecting which one man's 
conscience dictates an act different from that which is dic- 
tated by another's. It is not therefore essential to a con- 
scientious judgment of right and wrong, that that judgment 
should be in strict accordance with the Moral Law. Some 
men's consciences dictate that which the Moral Law does 
not enjoin ; and this law enjoins some points which are not 
enforced by every man's conscience. This is precisely the 
result which, from the nature of the case, it is reasonable to 
expect. Of these judgments respecting what is right, with 
which the sense of obligation becomes from time to time con- 
nected, some are induced by the instructions or example of 
others ; some by our own reflection or enquiry ; some per- 
haps from the written law of revelation ; and some, as we 
have cause to conclude, from the direct intimations of the Di- 
vine Will. 

It is manifest that if the sense of obligation is sometimes 
connected with subjects that are proposed to us merely by 
the instruction of others, or if the connexion results from the 
power of association and habit, or from the fallible investiga- 
tions of our own minds — that sense of obligation will be con- 
nected, in different individuals, with different subjects. So 
that it may sometimes happen that a man can say, I con- 
scientiously think I ought to do a certain action, and yet 
that his neighbour can say, I conscientiously think the con- 
trary. " With respect to particular actions, opinion deter- 
mines whether they are good or ill ; and Conscience approves, 
or disapproves, in consequence of this determination, whether 
it be in favour of truth or falsehood,'^* 

Such considerations enable us to account for the diversity 
of the dictates of the conscience in individuals respectively. 
A person is brought up amongst Catholics, and is taught from 
his childhood that flesh ought not to be eaten in Lent. The 
arguments of those around him, or perhaps their authority, 
satisfy him that what he is taught is truth. The sense of ohli- 
gation thus becomes connected with a refusal to eat flesh in 



* Adventurer ; No. 91 



CHAP. VI. J 



OF THE WILL OF GOD. 



5 



Lent ; and tlienceforth he says that the abstinence is dictated 
by his conscience. A Protestant youth is taught the con- 
trary. Argument or authority satisfies him that flesh may 
lawfully be eaten every day in the year. His sense of obli- 
gation therefore is not connected with the abstinence ; and 
thenceforth he says that eating flesh in Lent does not violate 
his conscience. And so of a multitude of other questions. 

When therefore a person says, my conscience dictates to 
me that I ought to perform such an action, he means — or in 
the use o-f such lano^uaore he ouorht to mean — that the sense 
of obligation which subsists in his mind is connected with 
that action ; that, so far as his judgment is enlightened, it is 
a requisition of the law of God. 

But not all our opinions respecting morality and religion 
are derived from education or reasoning. He who finds in 
Scripture the precept, " Thou shalt love thy neighbour as thy- 
self," derives an opinion respecting the duty of loving others 
from the discovery of this expression of the Will of God. 
His sense of obligation is connected with benevolence to- 
wards others in consequence of this discovery ; or, in other 
words, his understanding has been mformed by the Moral 
Law, and a new du'y is added to those which are dictated by 
his conscience. Thus it is that Scripture, by informing the 
judgment, extends the jurisdiction of conscience ; and it is 
hence, in part, that in those who seriously study the Scrip- 
tures, the conscience appears so much more vigilant and 
operative than in many who do not possess, or do not regard 
them. Many of the mistakes which education introduces, 
many of the fallacies to which our own speculations lead us, 
are corrected by this law. In the case of our Catholic, if a 
reference to Scripture should convince him that the judgment 
he has formed respecting abstinence from flesh is not founded 
on the Law of God, the sense of obligation becomes detached 
from its subject ; and thenceforth his conscience ceases to 
dictate that he should abstain from flesh in Lent. Yet Scrip- 
ture does not decide every question respecting human duty, 
and in some instances individuals judge differently of the de- 
cisions which Scripture gives. This, again, occasions some 
diversity in the dictates of the Conscience ; it occasions the 
sense of obligation to become connected with dissimilar, and 
possibly incompatible, actions. 

But another portion of men's judgments respecting moral 
affairs is derived from immediate intimations of the Divine 
Will. (This we must be allowed for the present to assume.) 
These intimations inform sometimes the judgment ; correct 



6 



THE IMMEDIATE COMMUNICATION [eSSAY I. 



its mistakes ; and increase and give distinctness to our know- 
ledge — ^thns operating, as the Scriptures operate, to connect 
the sense of obligation more accurately with those actions 
which are conformable with the Will of God. It does not, 
however, follow, by any sort of necessity, that this higher in- 
struction must correct all the mistakes of the judgment ; that 
because it imparts some light, that light must be perfect day ; 
that because it communicates some moral or religious truth, 
it must communicate all the truths of religion and morality. 
Nor, again, does it follow that individuals must each receive 
the same access of knowledge. It is evidently as possible 
that it should be communicated in different degrees to dif- 
ferent individuals, as that it should be communicated at all. 
For which plain reasons we are still to expect, what in fact 
we find, that although the judgment receives light from a 
superhuman intelligence, the degree of that light varies in in- 
dividuals ; and that the sense of obligation is connected with 
fewer subjects, and attended with less accuracy, in the minds 
of some men than of others. 

With respect to the aitthority which properly belongs to 
Conscience as a director of individual conduct, it appears 
manifest, alike from reason and from Scripture, that it is great. 
W^hen a man believes, upon due deliberation, that a certain 
action is right, that action is right him. And this is true, 
w^hether the action be or be not required of mankind by the 
Moral Law.* The fact that in his mind the sense of obligation 
attaches to the act, and that he has duly deliberated upon the 
accuracy of his judgm.ent, makes the dictate of his Conscience 
upon that subject an authoritative dictate. The individual is 
to be held guilty if he violates his Conscience — if he does 
one thing, whilst his sense of obligation is directed to its con- 
trary. Nor, if his judgment should not be accurately informed, 
if his sense of obligation should not be connected with a proper 
subject, is the guilt of violating his Conscience taken away. 
Were it otherwise, a person might be held virtuous for acting 
in opposition to his apprehensions of duty ; or guilty, for 
doing what he believed to be right. " It is happy for us that 
our title to the character of virtuous beings, depends not upon 
the justness of our opinions or the constant objective rectitude 
of all we do, but upon the conformity of our actions to the sin- 
cere convictions of our minds, "t Dr. Furneaux says, "To 
secure the favour of God and the rewards of true religion, we 

* " By Conscience all men are restrained from intentional ill — it infal- 
libly directs us to avoid ^mli, but is not intended to secure us from error." 
—Advent. No. 91, ~ t Dr. Price. 



CHAP. VI.] 



OF THE WILL OF GOD. 



7 



must follow our own consciences and judgments according to 
the best light we can attain."* And I am especially disposed 
to add the testimony of Sir William Tein()le, because he re- 
cognizes the doctrine which has just been advanced, that our 
judgments are enlightened by superhuman agency. '* The 
way to our future happiness must be left, at last, to the im- 
fressions made upon every marCs belief and conscience either 
by natural or supernatural arguments and means."! — Accord- 
ingly there appears no reason to doubt that some wdll stand 
convicted in the sight of the Omniscient Judge, for actions 
which his Moral Law has not forbidden ; and that some may 
be uncondemned for actions which that law does not allow. 
The distinction here is the same as that to which we have 
before had occasion to allude, between the desert of the agent 
and the quality of the act. Of this distinction an illustration 
is contained in Isaiah x. It was the divine will that a cer- 
tain specific course of action should be pursued in punishing 
the Israelites. For the performance of this, the king of As- 
l^yria was employed : — " I will give him a charge to take the 
spoil, and to take the prey, and to tread them down like the 
mire of the streets." This charge the Assyrian monarch ful- 
filled ; he did the will of God ; but then his intention was 
criminal ; he " meant not so :" and therefore, when the " whole 
work" is performed, " I will punish^'' says the Almighty, " the 
fruit of the stout heart of the king of ilssyria, and the glory 
of his high looks." 

Bat it was said that these principles respecting the author- 
ity of Conscience were recognized in Scripture. " One be- 
lie veth that he may eat all things : another w^ho is weak eateth 
herbs. One man esteemeth one day above another : another 
esteemeth every day alike." Here, then, are differences, 
nay, contrarieties of conscientious judgments. And what are 
the parties directed severally to do ? — " Let every man be 
/ully persuaded in his own mind ;" that is, let the full persua- 
sion of his own mind be every man's rule of action. The 
situation of these parties was, that one perceived the truth 
upon the subject, and the other did not ; that in one the sense 
of obligation was connected with an accurate, in the other 
with an inaccurate, opinion. Thus, again : — " / know, and 
am persuaded by the Lord Jesus, that there is nothing un- 
clean of itself ;" therefore, absolutely speaking, it is lawful to 
eat all things ; " but to him that esteemeth any thing to be un- 
clean, to him it is unclean." The question is not, whether 

• Essay on Toleration, p. 8. t Works : v. 1. p. 55. f. 1740. 



8 



THE IMMEDIATE COMMUNICATION 



[essay I 



his judgment was correct, but what that judgment actually 
was. To the doubter, the uncleanness, that is, the sin of eat- 
ing, was certain, though the act was right. Agahi: "All things 
indeed are pure ; but it is evil for that man who eateth with 
offence." And, again, as a general rule : " He that doubteth 
is condemned if he eat, because he eateth not of faith ; for 
whatsoever is not of faith is sin."* 

And here we possess a sufficient answer to those who 
affect to make light of the authority of Conscience, and ex- 
claim, " Every man pleads his conscientious opinions, and 
that he is bound in conscience to do this or that ; and yet his 
neighbour makes the same plea and urges the same obligation 
to do just the contrary. But what then ? These persons' 
judgments differed : that we might expect, for they are falli- 
ble ; but their sense of obligation was, in each case, really 
attached to its subject, and was in each case authoritative. 

One observation remains ; that although a man ought to 
make his conduct conform to his conscience, yet he may 
sometimes justly be held criminal for the errors of his opinioi^. 
Men often judge amiss respecting their duties in consequence 
of their own faults : some take little pains to ascertain the 
truth; some voluntarily exclude knowledge; and most men 
would possess more accurate perceptions of the Moral Law 
if they sufficiently endeavoured to obtain them. And, there- 
fore, although a man may not be punished for a given act 
which he ignorantly supposes to be lawful, he may be pun- 
is!led for that ignorance in which his supposition originates. 
Which consideration may perhaps account for the expression, 
that he who ignorantly failed ''to do his master's will " shall 
be beaten with few stripes." There is a degree of wicked- 
ness, to the agents of which God at length " sends strong de- 
lusion" that they may " believe a lie." In this state of strong 
delusion they perhaps may, without violating any sense of 
obligation, do many wicked actions. The principles which 
have been here delivered would lead us to suppose that the 
punishment which awaits such men will have respect rathei 
to that intensity of wickedness of which delusion was the 
consequence, than to those particular acts which they might 
ignorantly commit under the influence of the delusion itself. 
This observation is offered to the reader because some writers 
have obscured the present subject by speculating upon the 
moral deserts of those desperately bad men, who occasionally 
have committed atrocious acts under the notion that they were 
doing right. 

* Rom. xiv 



CHAP. VI.] 



OF THE WILL OF GOD. 



9 



Let us then, when we direct our serious enquiry to the 
Immediate Communication of the Divine Will, carefully dis- 
tinguish that Communication from the dictates of the con- 
science. They are separate and distinct considerations. It 
is obvious that those positions which some persons advance ; 
— " Conscience is our infallible guide," — Conscience is the 
voice of the Deity," &;c., are wholly improper and inadmissi- 
ble The term may indeed have been employed synonymouAy 
for the voice of God: but this ought never to be done. It is 
to induce confusion of language respecting a subject which 
ought always to be distinctly exhibited ; and the necessity 
for avoiding ambiguity is so much the greater, as the conse- 
quences of that ambiguity are more serious : it is obvious 
that, on these subjects, inaccuracy of language gives rise to 
serious error of opinion, 

REVIEW OF OPINIONS RESPECTING A MORAL SENSE. 

The purpose for which this brief review is offered to the 
reader, is explained in very few words. It is to enquire, by 
a reference to the written opinions of many persons, whether 
they do not agree in asserting that our Creator communicates 
some portions of his Moral Law immediately to the human 
mind. These opinions are frequently delivered, as the reader 
will presently discover, in great ambiguity of language ; but 
in the midst of this ambiguity there appears to exist one per- 
vading truth — a truth in testimony to which these opinions 
are not the less satisfactory because, in some instances, the 
testimony is undesigned. The reader is requested to observe^ 
as he passes on, whether many of the difficulties which en- 
quirers have found or made, are not solved by the supposition 
of a divine communication, and whether they can be solved 
by any other. 

" The Author of nature has much better furnished us for a 
virtuous conduct than our moralists seem to imagine, by al- 
most as quick and powerful instructions as we have for the 
preservation of our bodies."* 

" It is mxanifest, great part of common language and of 
common behaviour over the world, is formed upon the sup- 
position of a moral faculty, whether called conscience, moral 
reason, moral sense, or divine reason ; whether considered 
as a sentiment of the understanding, or as a perception of the 
heart, or, which seems the truth, as including both."t Is it 

* Dr. Hutcheson : Enquiry concerning Moral Good and Evil, 
t Bishop Butler ; Enquiry on Virtue. 



10 



THE IMMEDIATE COMMUNICATION [SSSAT I. 



not remarkable that for a " faculty" so well known " over the 
world," even a name has not been found, and that a Christian 
bishop accumulates a multiplicity of ambiguous epithets to 
explain his meaning ? Bishop Butler says again of Conscience, 
" To preside and govern, from the very economy and consti- 
tution of man, belongs to it. This faculty was placed within 
to be our proper governor to direct and regulate all undue 
principles, passions, and motives of action. — It carries its 
own authority with it, that it is our natural guide, the guide 
assigned us by the Author of our nature." Would it have 
been unreasonable to conclude, that there was at least some 
connexion between this reprover of " all undue principles, 
passions, and motives," and that law of which the New Tes- 
tament speaks, " All things that are reproved are made mani- 
fest by the light ?"* 

Blair says, " Conscience is felt to act as the delegate of an 
invisible Ruler ;" — " Conscience is the guide, or the enlight- 
ening or directing principle of our conduct."! In this in- 
stance, as in many others. Conscience appears to be used in 
an indeterminate sense. Conscience is not an enlightening 
principle, but a principle which is enlightened. It is not a 
legislator, but a repository of statutes. Yet the reader will 
perceive the fundamental truth, that man is in fact illuminated, 
and illuminated by an invisible Ruler. In the thirteenth ser- 
mon there is an expression more distinct : " God has invested 
Conscience with authority to promulgate his laws." It is 
obvious that the Divine Being must have communicated his 
laws, before they could have been promulgated by Conscience. 
In accordance with which the author says in another place, 
" Under the tuition of God let us put ourselves." — " A Hea- 
venly Conductor vouchsafes his aid." — " Divine light de- 
scends to guide our steps. "J It were to be wished that such 
sentiments were not obscured by propositions like these : " A 
sense of right and wrong in conduct, or of moral good and 
evil, belongs to human natureP — " Such sentiments are coeval 
with human nature ; for they are the remains of a law which 
was originally written in our heart."^ 

I do not know whether the reader will be able to perceive 
with distinctness the ideas of Lord Bacon and of Dr. Rush 
in the following quotations, but I think he will perceive that 
they involve a recognition — obscure and indeterminate, but 
still a recognition — of the doctrine, that the Deity communi- 
cates his laws to the minds of men. Dr. Rush says, "It 



* Eph. V. 13. 



t Sermons. 



t Sermon 7. 



§ Sermon 13- 



CHAP. VI.] 



OF THE WILL OF GOD. 



11 



would seem as if the vSupreme Being had preserved the Moral 
Faculty in man from the ruins of his fall, on purpose to guide 
him hack again to paradise ; and at the same time had consti- 
tuted the Conscience^ both in man and fallen spirits, a kind of 
royalty in his moral empire, on purpose to show his property 
in all intelligent creatures, and their original resemblance to 
himself." And Lord Bacon says, " The light of nature not 
only shines upon the human mind through the medium of a ra- 
tional faculty, but by an internal instinct according to the law 
of conscience, which is a sparkle of the purity of man's first 
estate." 

" The faculties of our minds are so formed by nature, that 
as soon as we begin to reason, we may also begin, in some 
measure to distinguish good from evil." — " We prefer virtu*^ 
to vice on account of the seeds planted in us."* 

The following is not the less worthy notice because it is 
from the pen of Lord Shaftesbury : " Sense of right and 
wrong, being as natural to us as natural affection itself, and 
being a first principle in our constitution and make, there is 
no speculation, opinion, persuasion, or belief, w^hich is capa- 
ble, immediately or directly, to exclude or destroy it."t Sen- 
timents such as these are very commonly expressed ; and 
what do they imply ? If sense of right and wrong is natural 
to us, it is because He who created us has placed it in our 
minds. The conclusion too is inevitable, that this sense 
must indicate the Divine Law by which right and wrong are 
discriminated. Now we do not say that these sentiments 
are absolutely just, or that a sense of right and wrong is 
strictly " natural" to man, but we say that the sentiments 
involve the supposition of some mode of Divine Guidance — 
some mode in which the Moral Lav/ of God, or a part of it, 
is communicated by him to mankind. And if this be indeed 
true, it may surely, with all reason, be asked, why w^e should 
not assent to the reality of that mode of communication, of 
which, as we shall hereafter see, Christianity asserts the 
existence ? 

" The first principles of morals are the immediate dictates 
of the moral faculty." — " By the moral faculty, or conscience, 
solely, we have the original conception of right and wrong." 
— " It is evident that this principle has, from its nature, au- 
thority to direct and determine with regard to our conduct ; 
to judge, to acquit or condemn, and even to punish ; an author- 
ity which belongs to no other principle of the human mind." 



* John Le Clerc. 



t Characteristics. 



12 



THE IMMEDIATE COMMUNICATION 



[essay 1. 



- — " The Supreme Being has given us this light within to 
direct our moral conduct."- — " It is the candle of the I.ord, 
set up within us to guide our steps."* This is almost the 
language of Christianity, " That was the true Light, which 
lighteth every man that cometh into the world."! I do . not 
mean to affirm that the author of the essays speaks exclusively 
of the same Divine Guidance as the apostle ; but surely, if 
Conscience operates as such a " light within," as " the candle 
of the Lord," it can require no reasoning to convince us that 
it is illuminated from heaven. The indistinctness of notions 
which such language exhibits, appears to arise from inaccu- 
rate views of the nature of Conscience. The writer does 
not distinguish between the recipient and the source ; between 
the enlightened principle and the enlightening beam. The 
apostle speaks only of the last ; the uninspired enquirer 
speaks, without discrimination, of both ; — and hence the am- 
biguity. 

Dr. Beattie appears to maintain the same general principle, 
the same essential truth, under other phraseology. Common 
sense, he says, is " that power of the mind which perceives 
truth or commands belief by an instantaneous, instinctive, and 
irresistible impulse, neither derived from education nor from 
habit, but from nature.''''' — " Every man may find the evidence 
of moral science in his own breast." An " instinctive" per- 
ception of truth derived from nature, must necessarily be tan- 
tamount to a power of perception imparted by the Deity. 
•'Whatsoever nature, does, God does," says Seneca: and Dr 
Beattie himself explains his own meaning — " The dictates 
of nature, that is, the voice of God. "J We have no concern 
with the justness of Beattie's philosophy, intellectual or moral, 
but the reader will perceive the recognition of the truth, or 
of something like the truth, to which we have so often referred. 

" What is the power within us that perceives the distinc- 
tions of right and wrong ? My answer is, The Understanding." 
— " Of every thought, sentiment, and subject, the Understand- 
ing is the natural and ultimate judge." This is the language 
of Dr. Price, but he does not seem wholly satisfied with his 
own definition. He says, " The truth seems to be, that in 
contemplating the actions of moral agents, we have both a 
perception of the understanding, and a feeling of the heart." 
And again, It is to intuition, that we ov/e our moral ideas." 
He speaks too of " the virtuous principle," — " the inward 
spring of virtue ; and says, " Goodness is the power of re- 

* Dr. Reid : Ess-ays on the Powers of the Human Mind, Essay 3. c. 8. «Sc.r 
t John L S. t Essay on Truth. 



CHAP. VI.] 



OF THE AVILL OF GOD. 



13 



flection, raised to its due seat of direction and sovereignty in 
the mind." These various expressions do not appear to re- 
present very distinct notions, but after the " Understanding" 
has been stated to be the ultimate judge, we are presented 
with the idea of Conscience, and then we perceive in Dr. 
Price's language, that which we find in the language of so 
many others, " Whatever our Consciences dictate to us, that 
lie, (the Deity,) commands more evidently and undeniably, 
than if hy a voice from heaven we had been called upon to do it^* 

Dr. Watts says that the mind " contains in it the plain and 
general principles of morality, not explicitly as propositions, 
but only as native principles, by which it judges, and cannot 
but judge, virtue to be fit and vice unfit."! 

And Dr. Cudworth : " The anticipations of morality do not 
spring merely from notional ideas, or from certain rules or 
propositions arbitrarily printed upon the soul as upon a book, 
but from some other more inward and vital principle in intel- 
lectual beings as such, whereby they have a natural determi- 
nation in them to do some things and to avoid others. "| 

Voltaire in his Commentary on Beccaria^ says, I call 
natural laws those which nature dictates, in all ages, to all 
men, for the maintenance of that Justice which she, (say what 
they will of her,) hath implanted in our hearts." 

" And this law is that innate sense of right and wrong, of 
virtue and vice, which every man carries in his owm bosoms" 
— " These impressions, operating on the mind of man, be- 
speak a law written on his heart.'''' — " This secret sense of 
right and wrong, for wise purposes so deeply implanted by 
our Creator on the human mind, has #16 nature, force, and 
effect of a law."|j 

Locke : " The Divine law, that law which God has set to 
the actions of men, whether promulgated to them by the light 
of nature or the voice of revelation, is the measure of sin and 
duty. That God has given a rule whereby men should gov- 
ern themselves, I think there is nobody so brutish as to 
deny."TI The reader should remark, that revelation and "the 
light of nature" are here represented as being jointly and 
equally the law of God. 

" Actions, then, instead of being tried by the eternal stand- 
ard of right and wrong, on which the unsophisticated heart 
unerringly pronounces, were judged by the rules of a perni- 

* Review of Principal Questions in Morals. t Philosophical Essays, 
X Eternal and Immutable jMoralit3\ 
§ Crimes and Punishments, Com. c. 14. 

11 Dr. Shepherd's Discourse on Future Existence. T Essay, b. 2, c. 2d 



14 



THE IMMEDIATE COIVIMUNICATION [eSSAY I. 



cious casuistry."* This may not be absolutely true ; bui 
there must be some truth which it is like, or such a proposi- 
tion would not be advanced. Who ever thought of attribu- 
ting to the unsophisticated heart the power of unerringly 
pronouncing on questions of prudence ? Yet questions of right 
and wrong are not, in their own nature, more easily solved 
than those of prudence. 

" Boys do not listen to sermons. They need not be told 
what is right ; like men, they all know their duty sufficiently ; 
the grand difficulty is to practise it."t Neither may this be 
true ; and it is not true. But upon what species of knowledge 
would any writer think of affirming that boys need not be in- 
structed, except upon the single species, the knowledge of 
duty 1 And how should they know this without instruction, 
unles^ their Creator has taught them ? 

Dr. Rush exhibits the same views in a more determinate 
form : " Happily for the human race, the intimations of duty 
and the road to happiness are not left to the slow operations 
or doubtful inductions of reason. It is worthy of notice, that 
while second thoughts are best in matters of judgment, jirst 
thoughts are always to be preferred in matters that relate to 
morality 

Adam Smith ^: " It is altogether absurd and unintelligible, 
to suppose that the first perceptions of right and wrong can be 
derived from reason. These first perceptions cannot be the 
object of reason, but of immediate sense and feeling." — 
" Though man has been rendered the immediate judge of man- 
kind, an appeal lies from his sentence to a much higher tri- 
bunal, to the tribunaj^f their own Consciences, to that of the 
man within the breast, the great judge and arbiter of their 
conduct." In some cases in which censure is violently poured 
upon us, the judgments of the man within, are, however, much 
shaken in the steadiness and firmness of their decision. " In 
such cases, this demigod within the breast appears, like the 
demigods of the poets, though partly of immortal, yet, partly, 
too, of mortal extraction." Our moral faculties " were set up 
within us to be the supreme arbiters of all our actions." " The 
rules which they prescribe are to be regarded as the com- 
mands and laws of the Deity, promulgated by those vice- 
gerents whi'ch he has thus set up within us." " Some ques- 
tions must be left altogether to the decision of the man within 
the breast." And let the reader mark what follows : " If we 
" listen with diligent and reverential attention to what he sug- 

* Dr. Southey : Book of the Church, c. 10. t West. Rev. No. 1 
t Influence of Physical Causes on the Moral Faculty. 



CHAP VI.] 



OF THE WILL OF GOD. 



15 



gests to us, his voice will never deceive us. We shall stand 
in no need of casuistic rules to direct our conduct/' How 
w^onderful that such a man, who uses almost the language of 
Scripture, appears not even to have thought of the truth— 
" the Anointing which ye have received of him abideth in 
you, and ye need not that any man teach you !" for he does 
not appear to have thought of it. He intimates that this vice- 
gerent of God, this undeceiving teacher to whom we are to 
listen with reverential attention, is some " contrivance or 
mechanism within and says that to examine what contriv- 
ance or mechanism it is, " is a mere matter of philosophical 
curiosity."* 

A matter of philosophical curiosity, Dr. Paley seems to have 
thought a kindred enquiry to be. He discusses the question, 
whether there is such a thing as a Moral Sense or not ; and 
thus sums up the argument : " Upon the w^hole it seems to 
me, either that there exist no such instincts as compose what 
is called the moral sense, or that they are not now to be dis- 
tinguished from prejudices and habits." — "This celebrated 
question therefore becomes, in our system, a question of pure 
curiosity ; and as such, we dismiss it to the determination of 
those who are more inquisitive than w^e are concerned to be, 
about the natural history and constitution of the human spe- 
cies."! But in another w^ork, a v/ork in w^hich he did not 
bind himself to the support of a philosophical system, he holds 
other language : " Conscience, our own Conscience, is to be 
our guide in all things." " It is through the whisperings of 
Conscience that the Spirit speaks. If men are wilfully deaf 
to their Consciences they cannot hear the Spirit. If, hearing, 
if being compelled to hear the remonstrances of Conscience, 
they nevertheless decide and resolve and determine to go 
against them, then they grieve, then they defy, then they do 
despite to, the Spirit of God." " Is it superstition ? Is it not 
on the contrary a just and reasonable piety to implore of God 
the guidance of his Holy Spirit, when we have any thing of 
great importance to decide upon or undertake ?" — " It being 
confessed that we cannot ordinarily distinguish, at the time, 
the suggestions of the Spirit from the operations of our minds, 
it may be asked, How are we to listen to them ? The answer 
is, by attending, universally, to the admonitions w^ithin us."| 
The tendency of these quotations to enforce our general ar- 
gument, is plain and powerful. But the reader should notice 
here another and a very interesting consideration. Paley 
23 



16 



THE IMMEDIATE COMMUNICATION. [eSSAY I. 



says, " Our own Conscience is to be our guide in all things,''^ 
— We are to attend universally to the admonitions within us. 
Now he writes a book of moral philosophy, that is, a book that 
shall " teach men their duty and the reasons of it," and from 
this book he absolutely excludes this law which men should 
universally obey, this law which should be their- " guide in all 
things." 

" Conscience, Conscience," exclaims Rousseau in his Pen- 
sees, " Divine Instinct, Immortal and Heavenly Voice, sure 
Guide of a being ignorant and limited but intelligent and free, 
infallible Judge of good and evil, by which man is made like 
unto God !" Here are attributes which, if they be justly 
assigned, certainly cannot belong to humanity ; or if they do 
belong to humanity, an apostle certainly could not be accurate 
when he said that in us, that is in our flesh, " dwelleth no good 
thingT Another observation of Rousseau's is worth transcrib- 
ing : " Our own conscience is the most enlightened philo- 
sopher. There is no need to be acquainted with Tully's 
Offices to make a man of probity ; and perhaps the most vir- 
tuous woman in the world is the least acquainted with the de 
finition of virtue." 

"And I will place within them as a guide, 
My Umpire, Conscience ; whom if they will near 
Light after light, well used, they shall attain."* 

This is the language of Milton ; and we have thus his tes- 
timony added to the many, that God has placed within us an 
Umpire which shall pronounce. His own laws in our hearts. 
Thus in his " Christian Doctrine" more clearly : " They can 
lay claim to nothing more than human powers, assisted by 
iliat spiritual illumination wltdch is common to aliy\ 

Judge Hale : " Any man that sincerely and truly fears Al- 
mighty God, and calls and relies upon him for his direction, 
has it as really as a son has the counsel and direction of his 
father ; and though the voice be not audible nor discernible 
by sense, yet it is equally as real as if a man heard a voice 
saying, " This is the way, walk in it." 

The sentiments of the ancient philosophers, &c., should 
not be forgotten, and the rather because their language is fre- 
quently much more distinct and satisfactory than that of the 
refined enquirers of the present day. 

Marcus Antoninus : "He who is well disposed will do 
every thing dictated by the divinity — a particle or portion of 
Himself which God has given to each as a guide and a leader J'^^ 

* Par. Lost, iii. 194. t P. 81. t Lib. 5, Sect. 27. 



CHAP. VI.] 



OF THE WILL OF GOD. 



Aristotle : " The mind of man hath a near affinity to God : 
there is a divine ruler in him.''' — Plutarch : "The light of 
truth is a law, not written in tables or books but dwelling in 
the mind, always as a living rule which never permits the 
soul to be destitute of an interior guide." — Hieron says that 
the universal light, shining in the Conscience, is " a domestic 
God, a God within the hearts and souls of men." — Epictetus : 
" God has assigned to each man a director, his own good ge- 
nius, a guardian whose vigilance no slumbers interrupt, and 
whom no false reasonings can deceive. So that when you 
have shut your door, say not that you are alone, for your God 
is within. — What need have you of outward light to discover 
what is done, or to light to good actions, who have God or that 
genius or divine principle for your light ?"* Such citations 
might be greatly multiplied ; but one more must suffice. Sen- 
eca says, " We find felicity — in a pure and untainted mind, 
which if it were not holy were not fit to entertain the Deity. ''^ 
How like the words of an apostle ! — " If any man defile the 
temple of God, him shall God destroy ; for the temple of God 
is holy, which temple ye are."t The philosopher again : 
" There is a holy spirit in us ;"| and again the apostle : " Know 
ye not that" the " Spirit of God dwelleth in you 

Now respecting the various opinions which have been laid 
before the reader, there is one observation that will generally 
apply — that they unite in assigning certain important attributes 
or operations to some principle or power existent in the hu- 
man mind. They affirm that this principle or power possesses 
wisdom to direct us aright — that its directions are given in- 
stantaneously as the individual needs them — that it is insepa- 
rably attended with unquestionable authority to command. 
That such a principle or power does, therefore, actually exist, 
can need little further proof ; for a concurrent judgment upon 
a question of personal experience cannot surely be incorrect. 
To say that individuals express their notions of this principle 
or power by various phraseology', that they attribute to it dif- 
ferent degrees of superhuman intelligence, or that they refer 
for its origin to contradictory causes, does not affect the gen- 
eral argument. The great point for our attention is, not the 
designation or the supposed origin of this guide, but its attri* 
butes ; and these attributes appear to be divine. 



♦Lib. 1, c. 14. 

t De Benef. c. 17, &c 



t 1 Cor. ill. 17. 
§ 1 Cor. iiL IG. 



18 



THE IMMEDIATE COMMUNICATION [eSSAY 1. 



THE IMMEDIATE COMMUNICATION OF THE WILL OP GOD. 

I. That every reasonable human being is a moral agent — 
that is, that every such human being is responsible to God, no 
one perhaps denies. There can be no responsibility where 
there is no knowledge : " Where there is no law there is no 
transgression." So then every human being possesses, or is 
furnished with, moral knowledge and a moral law. " If we 
admit that mankind, without an outward revelation, are never- 
theless sinners, we must also admit that mankind, without 
such a revelation, are nevertheless in possession of the law 
of God."* 

Whence then do they obtain it ? — a question to which but 
one answer can be given ; from the Creator himself. It ap- 
pears therefore to be almost demonstratively shown, that God 
does communicate his will immediately to the minds of those 
who have no access to the external expression of it. It is 
always to be remembered that, as the majority of mankind do 
not possess the written commmiicdXioTi of the will of God, the 
question, as it respects them, is between an Immediate Com- 
munication and none; between such a communication, and 
the denial of their responsibility in a future state ; between 
such a communication, and the reducing them to the condition 
of the beasts that perish. 

II. No one perhaps will imagine that this argument is con- 
fined to countries which the external light of Christianity has 
not reached. " Whoever expects to find in the Scriptures 
a specific direction for every moral doubt that arises, looks 
for more than he will meet with ;"t so that even in Christian 
countries there exists some portion of that necessity for other 
guidance, which has been seen to exist in respect to pagans. 
Thus Adam Smith says that there are some questions which 
it "is perhaps altogether impossible to determine by any. pre- 
cise rules," and that they " must be left altogether to the de- 
cision of the man within the breast." — But, indeed, when we 
speak of living in Christian countries, and of having access 
to the external revelation, we are likely to mislead ourselves 
with respect to the actual condition of " Christian" people. 
Persons talk of possessing the Bible, as if every one who 
lived in a protestant country had a Bible in his pocket and 
could read it. But there are thousands, perhaps millions, in 
Christian and in protestant countries, who Imow very little of 

* Gurney: Essays on Christianity, p. 516. 
t Mor. and Pol. Phil. b. 1. c. 4. 



CHAP. VI.] 



OF TIfE WILL OF GOD. 



19 



what Christianity enjoins. They probably do not possess the 
Scriptures, or if thoy do, probably cannot read them. What 
they do know they learn from others — from others who may 
be little solicitous to teach them, or to teach them aright. 
Such persons therefore are, to a considerable extent, practi- 
cally in the same situation as those who have not heard of 
Christianity, and there is therefore to them a corresponding 
need of a direct communication of knowledge from heaven. 
But if we see the need of such knowledge extending itself 
thus far, who will call in question the doctrine, that it is im- 
parted to the whole human race ? 

These are offered as considerations involving an antecedent 
probability of the truth of our argument. The reader is not 
required to give his assent to it as to a dogma of which he 
can discover neither the reason nor the object. Here is pro- 
bability very strong ; here is usefulness very manifest, and very 
great ; — so that the mind may reasonably be open to the recep- 
tion of evidence, whatever Truth that evidence shall establish. 

If the written revelation were silent respecting the imme- 
diate comxmunication of the Divine Will, that silence might 
perhaps rightly be regarded as conclusive evidence that it is 
not conveyed ; because it is so intimately connected with the 
purposes to which that revelation is directed, that scarcely 
any other explanation could be given of its silence than that 
the communication did not exist. That the Scriptures declare 
that God has communicated light and knowledge to some 
men by the immediate exertion of his own agency, admits 
not of dispute : but this it is obvious is not sufficient for our 
purpose ; and it is in the belief that they declare that God 
imparts some knowledge to all men, that we thus appeal to 
their testimony. 

Now here the reader should especially observe, that where 
the Christian Scriptures speak of the existence and influence 
of the Divine Spirit on the mind, they commonly speak of its 
higher operations ; not of its office as a moral guide, but as a 
purifier, and sanctifier, and comforter of the soul. They 
speak of it in reference to its sacred and awful operations in 
connexion with human salvation : and thus it happens that 
very many citations which, if we were writing an essay on 
religion, would be perfectly appropriate, do not possess that 
distinct and palpable application to an argument, which goes 
no further than to affirm that it is a moral guide. And yet it 
may most reasonably be remarked, that if it has pleased the 
Universal Parent tiius, and for these awful purposes, to visit 
the minds of those who are obedient 'o his power — he will 
23* 



20 



THE IMMEDIATE COMMUNICATION [ESSAY I.. 



not suffer them to be destitute of a moral guidance. The less 
must be supposed to be involved in the greater. 

Our argument does not respect the degrees of illumination 
which may be possessed, respectively, by individuals,* or in 
different ages of the v^orld. There were motives, easily con- 
ceived, for imparting a greater degree of light and of power 
at the introduction of Christianity than in the present day , 
accordingly there are many expressions in the New Testa- 
ment which speak of high degrees of light and power, and 
which, however they may affirm the general existence of a 
Divine Guidance, are not descriptive of the general nor of the 
present condition of mankind. Nevertheless, if the records 
of Christianity, in describing these greater " gifts," inform us 
that a gift, similar in its nature but without specification of 
its amount, is imparted to all men, it is sufficient. Although 
it is one thing for the Creator to impart a general capacity to 
distinguish right from wrong, and another to impart miraculous 
power ; one thing to inform his accountable creature that lying 
is evil, and another to enable him to cure a leprosy ; yet this 
affords no reason to deny that the nature of the gift is not the 
same, or that both are not divine. " The degree of light may 
vary according as one man has a greater measure than ano- 
ther. But the light of an apostle is not one thing and the 
light of the heathen another thing, distinct in principle. 
They differ only in degree of power, distinctness, and splen- 
dour of manifestation."! 

So early as Gen. vi. there is a distinct declaration of the 
moral operation of the Deity on the human mind ; not upon 
the pious and the good, but upon those who were desperately 
wicked, so that even " every imagination of the thoughts of 
their heart was only evil continually," — " My spirit shall not 
always strive with man." Upon this passage a good and in- 
telligent man writes thus ; *^ Surely, if His spirit had striven 
with them until that time, until they were so desperately 
wicked, and wholly corrupted, that not only some, but every 
imagination of their hearts was evil, yes, only evil, and that 

* I am disposed to offer a simple testimony to what I believe to be a 
truth ; that even in the present day, the divine illumination and power is 
sometimes imparted to individuals in a degree much greater than is neces- 
sary for the purposes of mere moral direction ; that on subjects connected 
with their own personal condition or that of others, light is sometimes 
imparted in greater brightness and* splendour than is ordinarily enjoyed by 
mankind, or than is necessary for our ordinary direction in life. 

t Hancock : Essay on Instinct, &c., p. 2, c. 7, s. 1. I take this oppor- 
tunity of acknowledging the obligations I am under to this work, fo3P 
many of the " Opinions" which are cited in the last secti«a- 



CHAP. VI.] 



OF THE WILL OF GOD. 



21 



continually, we may well believe the express Scripture asser- 
tion, that * a manifestation of the Spirit is given to ever^' man 
to profit withal.' 

Respecting some of the prophetical passages in the He- 
brew Scriptures, it may be observed that there appears a 
want of complete adaptation to the immediate purpose of our 
argument, because they speak of that^ prospectively, which 
our argument assumes to be true retrospectively also. " After 
those days, saith the Lord, I will put my law in their inward 
parts and write it in their hearts ;''t from which the reader 
may possibly conclude that before those days no such inter- 
nal law was imparted. Yet the preceding paragraph might 
assure him of the contrary, and that the prophet indicated an 
increase rather than a commencement of internal guidance. 
Under any supposition it does not affect the argument as it 
respects the present condition of the human race ; for the pro- 
phecy is twice quoted in the Christian Scriptures, and is ex- 
pressly stated to be fulfilled. Once the prophecy is quoted 
almost at length, and in the other instance the important clause 
is retained, " I will put my laws into their hearts, and in their 
minds will I wxixe them.'':j: 

" And all thy children," says Isaiah, " shall be taught of 
the Lord." Christ himself quotes this passage in illustrating 
the nature of his ownx religion : " It is written in the prophets, 
And they shall be all taught of God."§ 

" Thine eyes shall see thy teachers : and thine ears shall 
hear a word behind thee, saying, This is the way, walk yc 
in it ; when ye turn to the right hand, and when ye turn to 
the left."|| 

The Christian Scriptures, if they be not more explicit, are 
more abundant in their testimony. Paul addresses the ^''foolish 
Galatians.^^ The reader should observe their character ; for 
some Christians who acknowledge the Divine influence on 
the minds of eminently good men, are disposed to question it 
in reference to others. These foolish Galatians had turned 
again to " weak and beggarly elements," and their dignified 
instructor was afraid of them, lest he had bestowed upon 
them labour in vain. Nevertheless, to them he makes the 
solemn declaration, God hath sent forth the Spirit of his 
Son into your hearts. "1[ 

John writes a General Epistle, an epistle which was ad- 
dressed, of course, to a great variety of characters, of whom 
some, it is probable, possessed little more of the new reUgion 

* Job Scott's Journal, c. 1. t Jer. xxxi.o3. t Heb. viii. 10 ; and x. 16 
§ Jolm vi. 45. 1! Isa. xxx. 20, 21. V GaL iv. 6. 



22 



THE IMMEDIATE COMMUNICATION 



[essay I. 



than the name. The apostle writes — "Hereby we know 
that he abideth in ns by the Spirit which he hath given us."* 

The solemn declarations which follow are addressed to 
large numbers of recent converts, of converts whom the writer 
had been severely reproving for improprieties of conduct, for 
unchristian contentions, and even for the greater faults : " Ye 
are the temple of the living God, as God hath said, I will 
dwell in them and walk in them." — " What, know ye not that 
your body is the temple of the Holy Ghost which is in you 
" Know ye not that ye are the temple of God, and that the 
Spirit of God dwelleth in you ? If any man defile the temple 
of God, him shall God destroy ; for the temple of God is 
holy, which temple ye are."| 

And with respect to the moral operations of this sacred 
power: — "As. touching brotherly love, ye need not that I 
write unto you : for ye yourselves are taught of God to love 
one another that is, taught a duty of morality. 

Thus also : — " The Grace of God that bringeth salvation 
hath appeared to all men, teaching us that, denying ungodli- 
ness and worldly lusts, we should live soberly, righteously, 
and godly, in this present world ;"|| or in other words, teach- 
ing ail men moral laws — laws both mandatory and prohibitory, 
teaching both what to do and what to avoid. 

And very distinctly : — "The manifestation of the Spirit is 
given to every man to profit withal."^ " A Light to lighten 
the Gentiles."** "I am the Light of the world."tt "The 
true light which lighteth every man that cometh into the 
world."tt 

" When the Gentiles, which have not the law, do by nature 
the things contained in the law, these having not the law are 
a law unto themselves, v/hich show the work of the law writ- 
ten in their hearts. "§^ — written, it may be asked by whom but 
by that Being who said, " I will put my law in their inward 
parts, and write it in their hearts ?"i||| 

To such evidence from the written revelation, I know of 
no other objection which can be urged than the supposition 
that this Divine instruction, though existing eighteen hundred 
years ago, does not exist now. To which it appears sufii- 
cient to reply, that it existed not only eighteen hundred years 
ago, but before the period of tlie Deluge ; and that thejerms 
in which the Scriptures speak of it are incompatible with the 



* 1 John iii. 24. 

§ 1 Thess. iv. 9. 
** Luke ii. 32. 
§§ Rora. ii. 14. 



t 1 Cor. vi. 19. 

II Tit. ii. 11, 12, 
i-t John viii. 12. 
[Ill Jer. xxxi. 3.^. 



$ 1 Cor. iii. 16. 
IT 1 Cor. xii. 7. 
X\ John L 9. 



CHAP. VI. J 



THE WILL OF GOD. 



23 



supposition of a temporary duration : " all tauglil of God 
*' in you all " hath appeared unto all men given to every 
man:" every man that cometh into the worlds Besides, 
there is not the most remote indication in the Christian Scrip- 
tures that this instruction would not be perpetual ; and their 
silence on such a subject, a subject involving the most sacred 
privileges of our race, must surely be regarded as positive 
evidence that this instruction would be accorded to us for ever. 



How clear soever appears to be the evidence of reason, 
that man, being universally a moral and accountable agent, 
must be possessed, universally, of a moral law ; and how^ dis- 
tinct soever the testimony of revelation, that he does univer- 
sally possess it — objections are still urged against its existence. 

Of these, perhaps the most popular are those which are 
founded upon the varying dictates of the " Conscience." If 
the view wdiich we have taken of the nature and operations 
of the conscience be just, these objections will have little 
weight. That the dictates of the conscience should vary in 
individuals respectively, is precisely what, from the circum- 
stances of the case, is to be expected ; but this variation does 
not impeach the existence of that purer ray Avhich, whether 
in less or greater brightness, irradiates the heart of man. 

I am, however, disposed here to notice the objections* that 
may be founded upon national derelictions of portions of the 
Moral Law. " There is," says Locke, " scarce that principle 
of morality to be named, or rule of virtue to be thought on, 
W'hich is not somewhere or other slighted and condemned by 
the general fashion of vvhole societies of men, governed by 
practical opinions and rules of living quite opposite to 
others." — And Paley : "There is scarcely a single vice 
which, in some age or country of the world, has not been 
countenanced by public opinion : in one country it is esteemed 
an ofiice of piety in children to sustain their aged parents, in 
another to dispatch them out of the ^vay : suicide in one age 
of the world has been heroism, in another felony ; theft which 
is punished by most la^vs, by the laws of Sparta was not un- 
frequently rewarded : you shall hear duelling alternately re- 
probated and applauded according to the sex, age, or station 
of the person you converse with : the forgiveness of injuries 
and insults is accounted by one sort of people magnanimity, 
by another, meanness."! 

* Not urged specifically, perhaps, against the Divine Guidance ; but 
ihey will equally afford an illustration of the truth, 
t Mor. and Fol. Phil. b. 1. c, 5. 



24 



THE IMMEDIATE COMMUNICATION FeSSAY I. 



Upon all which I observe, that to whatever purpose these 
reasonings are directed, they are defective in an essential 
point. They show us indeed what the external actions of 
men have been, but give no proof that these actions were con- 
formable with the secret internal judgraent : and this last is 
the only important point. That a rule of virtue is " slighted 
and condemned by the general fashion, is no sort of evidence 
that those who joined in this general fashion did not still 
know that it was a rule of virtue. There are many duties 
which, in the present day, are slighted by the general fashion, 
and yet no man will stand up and say that they are not duties. 

There is scarcely a single vice which has not been coun- 
tenanced by public opinion but where is the proof that it 
has been approved by private and secret judgment ? There 
is a great deal of difference between those sentiments which 
men seem to entertain respecting their duties when they give 
expression to " public opinion," and when they rest their 
neads on their pillows in calm reflection. " Suicide in one 
age of the world has been heroism, in another felony but it 
is not every action which a man says is heroic, that he be- 
lieves is right, " Forgiveness of injuries and insults is ac- 
counted by one sort of people magnanimity, by another, mean- 
ness and yet they who thus vulgarly employ the word 
meanness, do not imagine that forbearance and placability are 
really wrong. 

I have met with an example which serves to confirm me 
in the judgment, that public notions or rather public actions 
are a very equivocal evidence of the real sentiments of man- 
kind. " Can there be greater barbarity than to hurt an in- 
fant ? Its helplessness, its innocence, its amiableness, call 
forth the compassion even of an enemy. — What then should 
we imagine must be the heart of a parent who would injure 
that weakness which a furious enemy is afraid to violate ? 
Yet the exposition, that is, the murder of new-born infants, 
was a practice allowed of in almost all the States of Greece, 
even among the polite and civilized Athenians." This seems 
a strong case against us. But what were the grounds upon 
which this atrocity was defended 1 — " Philosophers, instead 
of censuring, supported the horrible abuse, by far-fetched 
considerations of public utility."* 

By far-fetched considerations of public utility ! Why had 
they recourse to such arguments as these ? Because they 
found that the custom could not be reconciled with direct and 



^ Theory Mor. Sent. p. 5, c, 2. 



CHAP. VI. j OF THE V/ILL OF GOD. 25 

acknowledged rules of virtue : because they folt and knew 
that it was icrong. The very circumstance that they had 
recourse to far-fetched arguments," is evidence that they 
were conscious that clearer and more immediate arguments 
were against them. They knew that infanticide was an im- 
moral act. 

I attach some importance to the indications which this 
class of reasoning affords of the comparative uniformity of 
human opinion, eren when it is nominally discordant. One 
other illustration maybe offered from more private life. Bos- 
well in his Life of Johnson, says that he proposed the ques- 
tion to the moralist, " Whether duellinor was contrary to the 
laws of Christianity Let the reader notice the essence of 
the reply : " Sir, as men become in a high degree refined, 
various causes of offence arise which are considered to be of 
such importance that life must be staked to atone for them, 
though in reality they are not so. In a state of highly pol- 
ished society, an affront is held to be a serious injury. It 
must therefore be resented, or rather a duel must be fought 
upon it, as men have agreed to banish from their society one 
who puts up with an affront without fighting a duel. Now, 
Sir, it is never unlawful to fight in self-defence. He then 
who fights a duel, does not fight from passion against his an- 
tagonist, but out of self-defence, to avert the stigma of the 
world, and to prevent himself from being driven from society. 
— While such notions prevail, no doubt a man may lawfully 
fight a duel." The question was, the consistency of duelling 
with the laws of Ckristianitv' ; and there is not a word about 
Christianity in the reply. Why? Because its laws can never 
be sho^^Ti to allov/ duelling ; and Johnson doubtless knew 
this. Accordingly, like the philosophers who tried to justify 
the kindred crime of infanticide, he had recourse to far- 
fetched considerations," — to the high polish of society — ^to 
the stigma of the world — to the notions that prevail. Now, 
whilst the readers of Bosv/ell commonly think they have 
Johnson's authority in favour of duelling, I think they have 
his authority against it. I think that the mode in which he 
justified duelling, evinced his consciousness that it was not 
compatible ^vith the [Moral Law. 

And thus it is, that with respect to Public Opinions, and 
general fashions, and thence descending to private life, we 
shall find that men very usually know the requisitions of the 
Moral Law better than they seem to know them ; and that 
he who estimates the moral knowledge of societies or indi* 



26 



THE IMMEDIATE COMMUNICATION [eSSAY I 



viduals by their common language, refers to an uncertain and 

fallacious standard. 

After all, the uniformity of human opinion respecting the 
great laws of morality is very remarkable. Sir James Mack- 
intosh speaks of Grotius, who had cited poets, orators, his*- 
torians, &c., and says, " He quotes them as witnesses, whose 
conspiring testimony, mightily strengthened and confirmed by 
their discordance on almost every other subject, is a conclu- 
sive proof of the unanimity of the whole human race, on the 
great rules of duty and fundamental principles of morals."* 

From poets and orators we may turn to sa^uge life. In 
1683, that is, soon after the colonization of P^imsylvania, the 
founder of the colony held a " council and consultation" with 
some of the Indians. In the course of the interview it ap- 
peared that these savages believed in a state of future retribu- 
tion ; and they described their simple ideas of the respective 
states of the good and bad. The vices that they enumerated 
as those which would consign them to punishment, are remark- 
able, inasmuch as they so nearly correspond to similar enu- 
merations in the Christian Scriptures. They were " theft, 
swearing, lying, whoring, murder, and the like ;"t and the 
New Testament affirms that those who are guilty of adultery, 
fornication, lying, theft, murder, &c., shall not inherit the 
kingdom of God. The same writer having on his travels 
met with some Indians, stopped and gave them some good 
and serious advices. " They wept," says he, " and tears ran 
down their naked bodies. They smote their hands upon their 
breasts and said, * The Good Man here told them what I said 
was all good.' "J 

But reasonings such as these are in reality not necessary 
to the support of the truth of the Immediate Communication 
of the Will of God ; because if the variations in men's no- 
tions of right and WTong were grea^ter than they are, they 
would not impeach the existence of that communication. In 
the first place, w^e never afhrm that the Deity communicates 
all his law to every man : and in the second place, it is suffi- 
ciently certain that multitudes know his lav/s, and yet neglect 
to fulfil them. 

If, in conclusion, it should be asked, what assistance can 
be yielded, in the investigation of publicly authorized rules 
of virtue, by the discussions of the present chapter ? we an- 
swer, Very little. But when it is asked, Of what impor- 

* Disc, on Study of Law of Nature and Nations. 

t John Richardson's Life. % Ibid. 



CHAP. VI.] 



OF THE LAV/ OF GOD. 



27 



tance are they as illustrating the Principles of Morality ? we 
answer, Very much. If there be two sources from which it 
has pleased God to enable mankind to know his Will — a law 
written externally, and a law communicated to the heart — it 
is evident that both must be regarded as Principles of Mo- 
rality and that, in a work like the present, both should be 
illustrated as such. It is incidental to the latter mode of 
moral guidance, that it is little adapted to the formation of ex- 
ternal rules ; but it is of high and solemn importance to our 
species for the secret direction of the individual man. 

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